


White Collar

by Tasha_T



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Lesbian, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasha_T/pseuds/Tasha_T
Summary: Evelyn is a professional, and much sought after.  This latest job, though, is making her nervous.  She's doing it against her better judgement, and at the request of a powerful friend . . . the kind of 'friend' you don't say 'no' to.  She just hopes she won't live to regret it.Note . . . this is maybe a bit more serious than my other works.  Hope you enjoy, though.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

She turned quickly, face turned downward, focused on her phone, and almost ran into the woman. She looked up, wide eyed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I so need to watch where I’m going,” she apologized.

Everything – from that startled, slightly embarrassed look on her face to the earnestness of her voice – made it abundantly clear to anyone that the incident had been nothing but an ill-timed accident. But it wasn’t.

Evelyn stared up at the tall, dark haired woman and let her eyes go wide for just an instant. She gave a surprised little, “Oh.” She then quickly dropped her eyes and looked suitably embarrassed. She took a second, and then with a more composed face turned her eyes back up at the woman.

“You’re Erin O’Dell,” she said, with just a hint of awe in her voice.

The woman smiled. “Yes, I know,” she replied. For some women, that response might have had a bitchy undertone, but for this woman, it had more a sense of amusement.

Evelyn dropped her eyes again and shifted nervously. She absently brushed her blonde hair back away from her face. When she looked back up she shone the woman a bashful smile. “I’m acting like a total idiot. I’m so sorry. Ms. O’Dell, I’m Claire Southerland.” As she spoke she held out her hand to the dark haired woman. 

Evelyn made sure that her handshake was at least as firm as the one she received. She also let her hand linger, for just an extra second . . . or even two.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Southerland,” the woman responded. “How are you enjoying the conference? Is this your first? I don’t think I remember seeing you in other years.”

“No, this is my first one,” Evelyn replied somewhat bashfully. 

For a couple of seconds neither woman spoke . . . but they maintained their eye contact.

Finally the woman gave Evelyn a little smile. “Is there a reason you’re hiding way back here?” she asked. The question seemed quite lighthearted.

Evelyn had been in a small back alcove, close to the woman’s washroom, well away from the main ballroom where lunch was just finishing up. 

Evelyn broke eye contact, brushed back her hair, and shifted maybe just a bit nervously. “I was . . . you know, just checking my messages. It’s quieter back here, so . . . .” She let her words trail off.

Erin gave a little laugh and smiled. “You’re sure you’re not trying to escape all the horny lawyers?” she asked in a teasing voice.

Evelyn glance up quickly, eyes wide, as if she was shocked by Erin’s comment, and then let her eyes drop in embarrassment.

After a second she raised her eyes again and offered Erin a shy smile. “Maybe,” she said, a little sheepishly.

Erin gave her head a little shake. “Yeah, you get this many type A guys away from home and their wives and they all start acting like assholes.” She gave a little laugh and corrected herself. “Or maybe I should say, like bigger assholes.”

She gave Evelyn a sympathetic smile and said, “I don’t blame you for hiding. Someone who looks like you . . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead she just held Evelyn’s eyes for a few long seconds.

Evelyn maintained the eye contact. She let her eyes widened just slightly, her breathing deepened, and she shifted imperceptibly closer – the kind of things that a person might not consciously notice, but that still registers in their brain. They were all non-verbal cues that indicated a person’s very real interest.

Evelyn was a master at these – that was part of the reason she was so successful. 

After a couple of seconds she self-consciously brushed her blonde hair back again and gave the woman another shy little smile.

It was a few seconds before Erin spoke. “So,” she asked, still keeping her eyes locked on Evelyn’s. “How is it that you know me anyway? Are you from New York?”

Erin let out a little laugh. “Please don’t tell me you work at the DA’s office too, because I’m sure I would have noticed you.”

Evelyn’s shy smile widened slightly, just to let the woman know how please she was with the obvious compliment, and she edged just slightly closer to her.

“No, I work at a firm in Philadelphia,” she said. “But you’re – I guess – kind of a celebrity.”

Erin arched a brow, as if questioning Evelyn’s statement.

Evelyn grinned and said, “I saw you speak earlier today and I’ve got to say, I’m a big fan.” Somewhat more confidently she added, “I’ve always had an interest in white collar crime.”

“You work at a firm, you say? So is your interest in white collar crime about helping your clients hide it, or in preventing it?” Erin’s tone made it clear she was teasing.

Evelyn gave a little laugh and then shone Erin her brightest smile. “Preventing it, of course,” she responded, and playfully bumped her shoulder against Erin.

The two were quiet again for a couple of seconds, but their eyes never strayed. Finally, in a soft voice Erin said, “I actually saw you at the symposium.”

Evelyn gave her a sideways glance and a skeptical little look.

“You were on the left side . . . about a third of the way back . . . maybe the second or third seat in from the center aisle,” Erin said.

Evelyn grinned. “No,” she started, but Erin cut her off, saying, “On the left side, from how I was facing.”

Evelyn took a second, as if trying to mentally locate her seat . . . and then looked up at Erin with total awe. “That’s amazing . . . how did you see me . . . there were, what, a hundred people there . . . how did you do that?” 

Only part of it was an act. Evelyn’s amazement was quite genuine.

Meanwhile Erin was beaming, obviously thrilled she’d been able to impress ‘Claire’.

Evelyn was still dealing with her amazement. “That’s just . . . fricking unbelievable. How the heck did you see me?” she almost demanded.

Erin laughed. “Its okay, Claire,” she said, resting her hand lightly on Evelyn’s arm. “We’re adults here . . . so you can swear if you want.”

Evelyn looked appropriately embarrassed. She gave Erin another bashful smile before saying, “Sorry. I’ve had to tone it down since my sister had kids.”

Erin just laughed again. She still had her hand resting on ‘Claire’s’ arm.

“So, how did you do it?” Evelyn persisted. “Do you have, like, an eidetic memory?”

Erin gave her arm a little squeeze. “No, it’s nothing as special as that. It’s more like . . . a party trick, I guess. Just something I picked up over the years.”

“That’s a trick I wish you’d teach me,” Evelyn responded, almost as an aside.

Erin eyed her carefully, and then said, “I’d be glad to give you some pointers . . . if you really want.”

Evelyn’s eyes immediately shot up to meet Erin’s. Her lips parted slightly and her breathing quickened. She made no attempt to hide her excitement.

She swallowed, and in slightly hushed voice, said, “I’d . . . I’d love that . . . if you had time. I know you’re probably busy . . . everyone wants to talk to you . . . .” She gave Erin a shy, playful smile. “With you being a big celebrity and all.”

Erin just grinned at her. “Yeah, right.” She gave her eyes a big roll that made ‘Claire’ laugh.

In a more serious tone Erin said, “I’ve got to stick around for a bit. There’s the dinner at six . . . they’ll expect me for that. But I’d be thrilled to have an excuse to cut out of there as early as I can.”

Evelyn gave her a somewhat skeptical look . . . like maybe she thought Erin was just saying this to be nice . . . and that she’d change plans later to get out of it.

Erin seemed to read her mind. “Trust me, all those horny lawyers that are hitting on you are doing the same thing with me. Nobody needs that. I love speaking at these things . . . so I’ve got to do a bit of socializing . . . but I always do my best to find an excuse to escape early.”

Her smile widened as she added, “And this seems like a perfect reason to leave. I’ll just tell them I have a meeting I have to get to that I can’t miss.”

Evelyn shone her shy smile again, but didn’t let her eyes leave Erin’s.

“Are you staying at the Hilton?” Erin asked.

When Evelyn nodded, she smiled. “Can I meet you at Checkers? Do you now where that is?”

“No,” Evelyn said . . . but she actually did. It was a favorite of Erin’s and where she often went to unwind after one of these events.

Erin gave her directions, and added, “It’s usually a little quieter there . . . so we can talk.”

Evelyn smiled and in a quiet voice said, “That would be nice.”

“Does seven thirty work for you?”

When Evelyn nodded enthusiastically, Erin shot her a big smile and gave her arm another squeeze. 

They just stood there, eyes locked and smiling at each other for a moment, before Erin finally said, “I really should head back and do a bit of mixing.” She sighed before adding, “That’s part of what they’re paying me for I guess.” 

She paused and gave ‘Claire’ her biggest smile. In a soft voice she said, “I’ll see you later, then . . . at seven thirty . . . Checkers.”

Evelyn nodded. “Later,” she replied, although it came out slightly choked, like her throat was dry. 

It took another few seconds, and then Erin turned and started off. 

Evelyn didn’t relax. Instead her eyes followed the tall, dark haired woman, and the look of awe and excitement remained on her face. Which was good, because a dozen steps away Erin half turned and glanced back at her. She gave a smile and a little wave, and Evelyn waved back. A second later Erin had disappeared into the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

Evelyn finished the cigarette, dropped it on the ground and crushed it. She immediately thought she could use another . . . but she’d only brought one in her purse. She’d done that on purpose.

“I’ve really got to quit,” she thought, and not for the first time. She was confident she could, when she finally made her mind up to do it. She knew she had the willpower. She just hadn't reached that point yet.

The cigarette did seem to help calm her, though. She wasn’t nervous about her ‘performance’. She was confident that went perfectly. That was one of her talents . . . and she took her ‘roles’ very seriously.

Instead, she was a little nervous about this whole situation. She still had serious concerns that she hadn't been told everything . . . that somehow she was being used. She’d spent the better part of two weeks thinking about it – trying to analyze it – but she hadn't been able to figure out an angle.

Evelyn was a professional, and very much in demand in her area of expertise. She liked to refer to it as being in the ‘entertainment’ business – although the work she did had nothing to do with movies or TV or what people traditionally thought of as ‘entertainment’.

Others might think of her profession differently . . . perhaps referring to her as an escort, or – as someone like Erin O’Dell might suggest – a high priced call girl. 

Evelyn didn’t think either of those labels adequately described what she did. Sure, a dozen years ago when she’d been starting out, she probably would have fit into one of those conventional categories. But today, she had refined her ‘product’ . . . to the point where she could afford to have a limited number of very special – and very wealthy – clients who had very specific expectations. 

She had a talent for discerning the desires of her clients, and customized her ‘character’ to exactly suit the wants of each one. Sometimes, it seemed, even her clients were surprised by the woman that appeared at their doors, but Evelyn had never had a customer walk away disappointed. And she’d never had one that didn’t request a repeat performance.

Sex was often a part of the service. She was as adept with it as she was with the other aspects of her business. It might come as a surprise to many, though, that sex tended not to be the major selling feature. Undoubtedly some people would have been shocked to know just how often it didn’t even happen . . . especially considering the price that was charged . . . and considering the way Evelyn looked.

Sometimes, she’d discovered, people were looking for something more than just sex. Who knew.

Evelyn often thought she could have been successful as an actress. She was quite accomplished, in her own way. She had no problem convincingly playing any number of characters. In fact, when she was ‘in character’, as far as she was concerned, she was that person. 

For her, each character had a detailed background story, and when she walked through a client’s door, she became that person – she spoke like them, thought like them, and reacted like them. She was sure an outsider would find it quite amazing to watch.

She was happy enough, though, putting on a performance for just one – because even if they were out having dinner or at a gala or a theatre opening, she was only playing to that one person. She liked the intimacy that provided. And since she had been very selective about which clients she accepted, she knew she’d always have an appreciative audience . . . without any of the risks that sometimes went with this line of work. 

She had been quite successful – she had a nicely furnished condo that she owned outright, closets full of expensive clothing, a newer model Mercedes and a decent investment portfolio. All of that was comforting, because she knew she couldn’t do this forever. Although she was still considered very attractive, she knew age would eventually catch up with her. She couldn’t avoid it, no matter how hard she worked out or how carefully she managed her diet.

Her clients certainly enjoyed what she had to offer, but she had no delusions. Eventually their eyes would start to wander – it was like second nature to powerful men like that. They’d want a younger, hotter woman on their arm to show the world just how ‘successful’ they were . . . so she knew her time was coming to an end.

And maybe it was just her imagination, but she had a sense that requests for ‘appointments’ had maybe started to fall off lately. Of course that could have been the economy too.

“God, am I going to have to get a real job?” she often thought to herself. She didn’t think she could just live a life of leisure – even if she’d accumulated enough money. She needed to be active and to have some way to keep her mind engaged. Otherwise, she was certain she’d go crazy.

More than once she’d considered ‘convincing’ one of her well-to-do clients to marry her. Again, she couldn’t imagine living ‘a life of leisure’, especially if that involved giving up her freedom and control over her life. The types of men she knew very much liked to be in charge of all of their ‘possessions’ – that would not be something she would handle well. And besides, for her clients, her history would be somewhat toxic to their world if it ever became public. Most of them wouldn’t take a chance like that if it could stain their carefully cultivated public images.

Concern about her financial security wasn’t the reason she’d accepted this job, though, even if the money had been a significant amount.

The man who had approached her had been a reputable lawyer – a well connected client of hers had confirmed that for her. But like her client had said, “You never really know who a lawyer is representing. It could be anybody.” That, of course, had given her pause.

The actual ‘role’ had also been an issue for her . . . at least initially. When he’d given her the high level details, her response had been a little smile before she said, “Mr. Thorne,” – the lawyer – “I appreciate you bringing this to me, but to be quite honest, I don’t take on female clients. It’s just not my area of expertise. I do know a couple of other women who have established reputations in this area. I won’t give you their names – I’m sure you appreciate the need I feel for discretion – but I will reach out to them and if they have an interest, I will provide you with the information so you can connect with them.”

The lawyer had returned her smile, before saying, “I’ve discussed this extensively with my client . . . and they’ve been advised that you would be the ideal person for this . . . in spite of your ‘lack of expertise’. In fact, they feels that might actually be a benefit, in this particular case.”

Evelyn did her best to dissuade the lawyer, but he persisted, finally saying, “Why don’t you think about it. Maybe give it, say, twenty four hours, and then we can meet up again. We very much would like you for this . . . and as I’ve indicated we’d certainly make it worth your while.”

Evelyn had agreed to the twenty four hours, if only to end the meeting. She had no intention at that point of even considering accepting it. She already had some questions about what their end game in all of this really was.

What she hadn't expected was a call that night from Michael Mitchell – one of her long time clients and a very powerful man. He’d indicated he was aware she’d talked to Mr. Thorne that day. 

“I’d really appreciate it if you could help them out,” he’d said. Mike Mitchell didn’t make requests. When he ‘asked’ you to do him a favor, he didn’t expect you to say no. Ever. That’s just the way he was. And when you were as rich and connected as he was, you could be that way.

Evelyn had stayed up most of the night, thinking.

The next day when she met with Mr. Thorne, she’d reluctantly accepted his proposal.

She still had her qualms, though. So she’d locked eyes with the lawyer and said, “Can you assure me that no part of this is illegal . . . that I’m not signing up for something that’s going to blow up in my face?”

She thought she was as good as anybody at reading people. So when Thorne had said, “You have nothing to worry about,” she felt somewhat relieved.

She had added, though, “If at any point I get the sense that you’ve lied . . . or your client has lied to you . . . and that you’re using me for some kind of scam or blackmail or . . . something . . . if I even get a hint of something like that, I’ll walk. Do you understand.”

He had smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

She’d stared at him for a moment, looking for any signed of deception, but she didn’t see anything. “God, I hope he’s telling me the truth,” she thought.

Finally she said, “Okay. It’s cash up front, and if I walk because you lied, you get none of it back. Do you understand.”

Thorne’s smile fades and he gave her a much more serious look. He’d made the sale . . . now it was time for negotiations. “Half now . . . half when you’re done,” he countered. With a smile he added, “And if you discover we’ve lied to you, then by all means, you should keep whatever’s been paid.”

The deal was done. He’d then given her a file folder that included a name – Erin O’Dell. 

Evelyn had no idea who she was, but she spent the night going through the file and doing some research of her own on the internet.

When she opened the file, she found a large blow up of a woman right on top. It looked like it was taken at a gala of some sort, so Evelyn assumed she had money. She saw a slender, dark haired woman with bright, intelligent eyes. She appeared to be maybe forty. 

In the picture, she was in a beautiful red designer dress that perfectly suited her. The photographer had done a wonderful job. The shot caught her smiling broadly, her eyes sparkling, maybe sharing a story with friends. She certainly looked like an attractive woman.

Behind the picture there were some news articles. In the first one Evelyn saw a picture of the same woman, only this time with her hair pulled back, looking more serious and wearing an expensive looking business suit. Evelyn’s eyes were drawn to the caption under the picture . . . where the woman was identified as ADA Erin O’Dell.

Evelyn felt a knot forming in her stomach. ADA . . . as in Assistant District Attorney! She didn’t feel good at all . . . but that queasiness quickly turned into anger. “What the fuck is going on?” she asked herself.

She dug deeper, but that seemed to produce more questions than answers. She discovered that ADA O’Dell specialized in white collar crimes – not organized crimes or drugs as she’d initially feared. 

So was someone trying to create a compromising situation that would allow them to blackmail her or discredit her? That seemed to make the most sense.

Evelyn read some background material on the DA’s office. It indicated that an ADA wouldn’t be the one who’d make a determination on prosecution of anyone of significance – that would be the DA himself. So it didn’t appear she could just kill an investigation.

Maybe she could leak information about what type of evidence they had . . . but Evelyn knew that would all come out in discovery anyways.

She was struggling to see an angle.

“Maybe her job’s just a coincidence,” she thought. “Maybe it’s something from her personal life.”

Being caught with another woman might be compromising for some people, Evelyn knew.

Again, though, her research led her nowhere.

Evelyn had been married, but had divorced close to ten years earlier. It appeared there were no children involved – so no custody angle – and it seemed the whole thing had been quite amicable.

She did come from money – her father was an investment banker and her mother was a pediatric surgeon – but they seemed very liberal and they quite visibly supported causes like AIDS research . . . so they didn’t seem likely to be upset if their daughter was involved with another woman.

There was no indication the woman had any political aspirations – including running for the DA’s office. Anyways, in liberal New York, having had a lesbian affair would not in any way affect her even if she did decide to run.

And then Evelyn came across more pictures on the internet – Erin O’Dell at various galas and other events, looking the part of the rich young socialite . . . and more recently, her marching in the Gay Pride parade, and one picture of her at an event, holding hands with an attractive young blonde woman. It seemed obvious they were together – whether it was just a date for the event or they were a couple, Evelyn didn’t know.

She found the woman wasn’t currently married (with either a husband or wife), and there was no information about any relationship. In fact, she’d appeared in a recent article on New York’s most eligible singles. The write-up on her noted she’d dated both men and women, but indicated that she wasn’t currently in a serious relationship – Evelyn knew you often had to take articles like that with a grain of salt.

There was nothing that Evelyn saw that gave her a sudden ‘aha’ moment. Still, she felt uneasy.

Mr. Thorne – the lawyer – had indicated that Evelyn’s ‘services’ were just a complimentary ‘perk’ that was offered to all of the marquee speakers at their conferences. “Hell, most of the men speaking at these things just demand it, right up front – a companion for the evenings.”

When Evelyn had asked if Erin was aware, then, that this was being organized for her, he’d just smiled. “No. Given her job, and . . . well, she would never ask for something like this. But my client feels she’s a very valuable asset – she always draws a good audience and she’s in demand – so they wants to reward her . . . and maybe encourage her to continue speaking at their events.”

Evelyn thought the explanation sounded incredibly weak . . . but she was struggling to see how someone might use it against the woman.

After a few more sleepless nights, she’d finally decided to go ahead with it . . . in spite of her misgivings. She had two weeks before the conference in Atlantic City . . . and she planned to us it . . . to continue to thinking about it . . . and to continue researching Erin O’Dell.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Claire’ sat at a discrete table in a back corner of the establishment, seated so she could see much of the room. She’d kept on her business suit – it was well tailored and though it looked professional, it also nicely accentuated her curves. She had undone an extra button or two on her blouse, though . . . something she was certain Erin would notice.

As she ran her eyes around the room, she was impressed. It had dark, hardwood paneled walls and dark leather furniture that gave it the feel of a private club. The lighting was quite minimal, with only small pools throughout the restaurant from focused overhead lights. This left the flickering candles that adorned each table as the main source of lighting for the guests. It created a quiet, intimate atmosphere that Evelyn thought was ideal.

In the background there was soft piano music that was loud enough to drown out conversations from any near-by table, without being intrusive.

Evelyn had arrived ten minutes early, assuming correctly that Erin would not be there yet. Erin was the ‘celebrity’ after all. Everyone at the after-dinner function would want to talk to her – if not for her legal insights, then for the mere fact she was an attractive woman amongst a large group of men. 

“Correction . . . a large group of ‘horny men’,” she thought and smiled as she recalled Erin’s earlier description of her esteemed colleagues.

Evelyn was mostly calm . . . although she did feel a little flush of excitement. Of course that may have been ‘Claire’ who was feeling that way. Not that it mattered.

Evelyn had studied Erin as much as she’d studied any potential client that she’d taken on, and felt she knew her quite well. The only thing that made her even a little uneasy was the fact that Erin was a woman.

It wasn’t the physical part that concerned her. Evelyn had always been very open-minded when it came to sex, and the idea of being intimate with a woman didn’t bother her in the least. To be honest, she actually found herself intrigued.

Of course being what she considered a serious professional, she hadn't left anything to chance. She’d been out to women-only clubs a few time in the last two weeks and had been very ‘friendly’ with the other customers . . . plus she’d spent an evening with a woman she knew in the profession who specialized in female clients.

The woman initially seemed a bit reluctant . . . perhaps wondering if Evelyn was considering expanding into her area. Evelyn had told her, though, that she had a client who had thrown out the idea of maybe including his new, young wife the next time he and Evelyn got together. The implications were obvious, so Evelyn said she wanted a bit of a dry run . . . and maybe a few pointers . . . before she got together with a paying customer. That was something the woman could understand.

Honestly, Evelyn had found that evening quite enjoyable. The woman she’d chosen had proven to be quite accomplished, and seemed happy to offer pointers . . . which Evelyn very much appreciated. 

After that experience, Evelyn had little concern about how this evening might end up.

She was aware, though, that she had spent her whole career reading men. Her success had always been based on her ability to reach inside a man’s head and know what he truly wanted. She just wasn’t sure that skill would translate perfectly to a woman.

“Just trust your instincts,” she told herself. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and relaxed.

She adjusted herself in her seat, sitting up straight, a calm, confident expression on her face. She took a sip of the white wine she had ordered while her eyes turned to the doorway to see if Erin had arrived yet. 

She was Claire now. Not the awestruck Claire that had been surprised to literally ‘bump into’ her idol at the conference earlier, but the cool, reserved woman who’d had time to regroup and get herself under control. Sure, she was looking forward to meeting up with Erin, but as an equal, not as some wide-eyed groupie. 

That had been Evelyn’s ‘read’ on Erin . . . both from the background material she’d seen and from actually meeting her. She was certain Erin didn’t have the ego that demanding Claire be some fawning admirer. She felt Erin was looking for what most people want – an intelligent person, confident without being arrogant, kind, genuine, well adjust, and with a sense of humor. That was the Claire that Erin was meeting with . . . and Evelyn was confident it would be a person Erin found attractive.

She took another small sip of the wine, and then set the glass down. She didn’t want to drink too much before Erin even arrived.

A minute later Evelyn saw her. Erin breezed into the room, a confident woman who knew herself and knew what she wanted. She paused at one table, smiling and resting her hand on one man’s shoulder while she shared a few words with the three men who sat there.

The men all smiled up at her, obviously pleased that she had stopped to acknowledge them. They laughed at what she said, and when she turned to leave, Evelyn could see all of their eyes turn to follow her. 

She was definitely an attractive woman, and Evelyn decided she was well aware of that fact. She didn’t flaunt it, though, which impressed Evelyn. That was an easy trap for a beautiful woman to fall into.

As Erin ran her eyes around the room, Evelyn decided it was time for her to leave and for Claire to take over. She smiled, maybe more with her eyes than her lips, and raised a hand to get Erin’s attention.

She was please to see the little smile on Erin’s face when she finally spotted her. 

Erin made her way over to the table. She stood there for a second, smiling while she eyed Claire. “You didn’t have any problem finding the place?” she finally asked.

“No,” Claire replied, “I just followed your directions. Easy.”

After another second of watching Claire, Erin finally sat down. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, and just shrugged as if to say, “There was nothing I could do.”

Claire shrugged back, and said, “Whatever . . . you’re here now.” She punctuated her comment with a happy smile.

A waitress had obviously seen Erin arrive, because she came by the table almost immediately to take her order. Erin asked for a scotch, on the rocks. Claire noticed she ordered a very high-end scotch. Apparently she had expensive tastes.

“So, how did the rest of you day go?” Erin asked as she waited for her drink to arrive. “Attend any interesting presentations? You didn’t happen to catch McGinty’s take on copywrite enforcement in the age of the internet, did you?”

Claire’s eyes seemed focused on her wine glass as she absently ran her finger around the rim. After a second she looked back up at Erin. She had a crooked little smile on her face. 

“To be honest,” she said, “I’m not all that interested in talking about the conference.”

Erin seemed surprised by the statement, but she recovered quickly. She found a smile of her own. Raising an eyebrow, and in a playful tone asked, “So tell me, Ms. Southerland, what is it you’d like to talk about?”

Claire kept her eyes on Erin’s, but continued to slowly trace her finger around the rim of her glass. She took a couple of seconds before saying, “Well, Ms. O’Dell . . . or I guess that’s ADA O’Dell . . . why don’t you tell me something about you. I mean, I’ve read the bio and everything . . . but what are you really like? What would you be doing on a normal Saturday night . . . if you weren’t here with me?”

Erin made a big show of sighing. “I live a boring life. Most weekends I’m in at work, you know, making the streets safe and putting bad guys away.”

Claire let out a little laugh. “Yeah, those white collar criminals are really a threat to all the women and children,” she joked.

It surprised her when Erin got suddenly very serious. “Everyone downplays white collar crime. Yeah, they aren’t killing and raping maybe, but they’re still causing harm, and often on a wider scale than any other type of criminals. How many people do you think got hurt when the whole Bernie Madoff thing blew up, or when Enron went down, or when Goldman crashed the financial system? Tell me what kind of impact those had on people? I’m talking real impacts to people’s lives.”

Claire sat back, held up her hands and looked suitably chastened. “You’re right. I’m sorry . . . I wasn’t being serious . . . or thoughtful, I guess.”

Erin seemed to catch herself. She looked down, and then slowly raised her eyes, looking somewhat embarrassed. “No, I’m sorry. I get a little wound up about it, I guess. Really, I’m sorry.”

That crooked smile appeared on Claire’s face again. “I’m betting that’s not the first time you’ve made that speech,” she said lightly. “You sound like you’re running for office.”

“No, I’m just . . . .” Erin paused, like she wasn’t sure how to express her feelings.

“Frustrated,” Claire offered. “I’m sure it’s tough dealing with people who don’t get it . . . especially people who should know better.” Claire gave a weak smile, as if to say, “I’m clearly in that category.”

Neither of them spoke for a second. Finally Claire said, “This is why I don’t like to talk business. It always ruins the mood.”

A slow smile spread across Erin’s face. “And exactly what kind of mood were you in?” she asked. 

Claire smiled back. She started running her finger slowly around the rim of her glass again.

“I was trying to find out a bit more about you,” she said. She glanced down at the beautiful diamond ring on Erin’s finger as she asked, “So . . . is there a significant other?”

Erin had seen the direction of her eyes. She laughed and held up the ring for Claire to see better. “This ring,” she explained, “It was my grandmother’s. It’s a family heirloom . . . and since I was the only granddaughter . . . it came to me. I actually love it . . . and sometimes it even works to scare off people I’d rather not have to deal with.”

She let out another little laugh. “I’d hoped it might work this evening . . . but lawyers are soulless jerks who couldn’t care less.”

That made Claire laugh.

Erin gazed down at the ring again, and then turned her eyes to Claire. “So, to prove I’m not a politician, I’ll actually answer your question. No, there isn’t a significant other . . . at least not yet.” As she spoke the last part, she stared meaningfully at Claire.

Claire met her eyes and made no attempt to look away.


	4. Chapter 4

The door had barely closed before Erin had Claire pressed up against the wall. Her lips were on Claire’s and her hands were in her hair, on her face, running down her body and over her bottom. They were everywhere . . . touching, squeezing, caressing, exploring . . . .

Claire hands were frantically roaming Erin’s body as well, while she welcomed the woman’s tongue into her mouth.

For Evelyn, it had been a long time since she’d been kissed with this much passion and heat. And her – and Claire – were very much consumed by it. 

Where Evelyn ended and where her characters – like Claire – began was often a bit grey, but she was finding at this moment that she didn’t need to pretend in any way.

Her reaction to the woman . . . her heated kisses and roaming hands . . . were all very natural. To say she was enjoying herself was a major understatement.

It was so tempting, Evelyn knew, to just let go and let events take their natural course . . . but that hadn't been her plan . . . so she abruptly pulled her lips from Erin’s and leaned back.

She stood that way, panting, very aroused . . . but hesitating.

Erin clearly noticed. She became very still. She turned her eyes to Claire.

“Is everything okay?” she asked softly, the concern evident in her voice and her eyes.

Claire nodded and gave her a weak smile. “Yeah . . . I just . . . I just need a second . . . okay?”

“Sure . . . of course,” Erin replied immediately, and shifted back another inch to give her more space.

Claire closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then reopened them. She gave Erin another weak smile, but didn’t speak.

“Are you okay?” Erin asked again, clearly uncertain what to make of Claire’s sudden reaction.

Claire nodded, but didn’t meet Erin’s eyes.

Erin gave her a second, and then very quietly asked, “Is this . . . your first time?” She kept that same soft, caring tone.

Claire’s smile widened just a fraction. She took a moment, but finally said, “No . . . it’s not my first time . . . but . . . I guess I haven’t exactly had a lot of experience.” Her eyes dropped. She sounded almost embarrassed.

Erin watched her carefully for a moment. “Should I stop then?” she finally asked.

“No,” Claire replied immediately. Her eyes came up and met Erin’s when she spoke, but after a second they dropped again, bashfully. She took a second before raising them and giving Erin a shy smile. She reached out and brushed her hand lightly over Erin’s cheek. “No,” she repeated, softer this time. “. . . I definitely don’t want to stop. I want to . . . maybe if we could . . . .”

“Slow things down a little?” Erin offered.

Claire’s smile widened . . . an appreciative smile for Erin’s understanding. She gave a little nod.

Erin reached out and lightly brushed her fingertips over Claire’s cheek. “I can do that,” she said. She slowly leaned forward – watching carefully as she did – and kissed Claire on the lips – ever so softly – before retreating again.

Claire was beaming now, her eyes sparkling. She gave a soft, heartfelt, “Thank you,” and then leaned forward to brush her lips over Erin’s, before giving her a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Claire said, but Erin just put a finger to her lips and said, “Shh.”

Erin kissed her lightly again on the lips, and then traced soft kisses across her cheek before trailing them down her neck.

Claire wove her hands through Erin’s thick hair and let out a soft little sigh.

After a few seconds of soft kisses on Claire’s neck, Erin gave a little tug on her jacket. She leaned back so she could see Claire, gave her jacket another little tug and asked, “Can I maybe take this off . . . make you a little more comfortable?”

Claire smiled and gave a little nod. 

Erin undid the two buttons on the front of the jacket. Claire pushed herself off the wall, shrugged out of the jacket, and let it fall to the floor. She smiled, reassuringly . . . and then slipped her arms around Erin’s neck, pulled her head to her and kissed her slowly and deeply. Her tongue found its way to Erin’s, and they shared a long, open-mouthed kiss.

Claire leaned back against the wall again, but this time Erin didn’t retreat. Her lips made their way to Claire’s neck where she planted soft kisses first on one side, then down to her throat and up the other side.

Claire had her hands in Erin’s hair, gently guiding her. Her breath was coming faster and she let out another soft sigh as Erin’s lips found hers again.

As they kissed, Claire felt Erin run a hand down her back, around her waist and then slowly back up. Erin leaned back so she could see Claire. “Is that okay?” she asked as she cupped her breast and began to gently caress it.

Claire gave her a sexy little grin. “Mmm,” she sighed. “That feels good to me.”

Erin couldn’t help smiling.

Claire pulled Erin to her again and they shared another long, passionate kiss.

After a moment Claire began squirming, so Erin pulled back.

“I’m still not totally comfortable,” Claire said. She seemed quite serious – which brought a look of concern to Erin’s face – but after a second a mischievous smile slid across her face. “Maybe I’d be better if I just got rid of this.” Her voice was throaty, and as she spoke she began to unbutton her blouse.

Erin just watched as she undid each button . . . very slowly . . . pulled the blouse free from her skirt and then let it slide off her shoulders to rest on the floor with her jacket.

She hesitated for only a second, and then reached behind and undid her bra. With a little shrug of her shoulders, it fell to the floor with the rest of her clothes, revealing her lovely breasts, with their thick pink nipples standing out, almost begging for Erin’s attention.

Claire took one of Erin’s hands, and gently kissed each finger. She let Erin’s index finger slide into her mouth for a few long seconds and ran her tongue over it before moving on to the next finger. Finally she turned her hand over, lightly kissed the palm, and then with a smile, guided it to her now bare breast.

Claire’s hand remained on top of Erin’s, pressing it firmly against her breast while she arched her back slightly, making it very clear to Erin what she wanted. 

Erin didn’t need any encouragement, though. She began to caress Claire’s breast, while at the same time her lips found their way back to Claire’s. Their tongues danced inside Claire’s mouth while Erin massaged her bare breast and gently pinched her swollen nipple.

Claire let out a soft moan and arched her back again, pressing herself into Erin’s soft hand.

After a minute Claire broke their kiss. She held Erin’s head where they could see each other and made no attempt to hide the deep look of longing on her face. She gently guided Erin’s head . . . down . . . until her lips found one of Claire’s swollen nipples.

Erin ran her tongue over it – drawing a soft moan from Claire – and then circled it slowly before sucking it into her mouth. She ran her tongue around it and back over it . . . and then gently nibbled it . . . all while she continued to massage Erin’s breasts with her hands. She sucked it hard and lashed it suddenly with her tongue . . . and then returned to lightly teasing it.

Claire’s eyes were closed and her breathing was becoming ragged and interspersed with soft moans. After several minutes, she guided Erin to her other aching nipple and moaned when she wrapped her warm lips around it and attacked it with her tongue.

Claire’s moans were becoming louder and more urgent. 

Evelyn was finding there was no acting required. She had become very aroused . . . she couldn’t remember the last time she had been this hot. She always tended to be so focused on the needs of the person she was with – and often they were only focused on their needs, too, since that was what they were paying for. In this instance, though, she was only too happy to let Erin focus on her. 

Erin’s chance would come, Evelyn knew, but for the moment . . . she’d just enjoy herself. This wasn’t her being selfish. She firmly believed that Erin would only naturally want to take the lead with her ‘less experienced’ lover.

“If that means letting her have her way with me, I guess I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” Evelyn thought. She didn’t even try to hide the big smile that brought to her lips. 

After a couple more minutes, Claire gently tugged on Erin and guided her lips back to her own. They shared a long, passionate kiss.

When their lips parted, Erin grinned at her and said, “How’s it going? Are you enjoying yourself?

Claire gave her a brilliant smile and moaned, “Oh, God, yes. Do you even have to ask?”

Claire’s obvious enthusiasm seemed to make Erin happy. They just stared at each other for another couple of seconds. 

“So, you’ve gotten over your . . . nervousness?” Erin asked in a quiet voice.

Claire didn’t answer. Instead she reached out and ran a hand gently over Erin’s cheek . . . before leaning forward and giving her a slow, deep kiss.

When their lips finally parted, Claire gave Erin a sexy smile and in a husky voice said, “Yeah, I think I’m passed all that.”

She found Erin’s hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it, and said, “I’m thinking we should move this to the bedroom. Then maybe I can show you just how much I appreciate you being so patient with me.”

Claire was please to see the reaction in Erin’s eyes.

She took a step into the room, and, still holding Erin’s hand, gave it a little tug and led her across the suite to the bedroom.

Erin lay on her back on the large bed, her eyes closed and her breathing finally returning to normal. Claire lay beside her, her head on Erin’s shoulder and her arm thrown across her body. She was playfully teasing one of Erin’s breasts, lightly running her fingers over it, giving it a gently squeeze and tracing small circles around her dark nipple.

Finally Erin opened her eyes and turned to Claire, offering her a serene smile. She reached out, pushed a strand of hair back off Claire’s face and then gently brushed her fingertips over her cheek.

Claire was looking up at her, sharing a similar contented smile, while she continued to caress her breast.

“You haven't had enough?” Erin asked in a playful voice.

Claire grinned and gave her head a little shake. “Not yet,” she said as she gently pinched Erin’s nipple and then rolled it between her thumb and forefinger.

She got a soft little sigh as a reaction, which pleased her.

After a second Claire arched a brow and asked, “Why, are you complaining?”

Erin laughed softly. “No . . . not me. What have I got to complain about?”

Claire gave her a big, beaming smile and snuggled in closer to her. She let her eyes return to Erin’s chest and the object of her interest.

After several seconds she glanced up at Erin again and in a very serious tone said, “Just so you know . . . that was really amazing.”

Erin smiled before replying. “Good,” was all she said. Her warm tone and her equally warm smile said much more than that one word, though.

Now a big grin spread across Claire’s face. “No, I’m serious,” she continued, becoming much more animated. “That was totally . . . fricking amazing,” she gushed, making no attempt to hide her joy.

Erin couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, you can say, ‘fucking amazing’. There’s only adults here . . . and it won’t bother me,” she joked.

Claire looked a little embarrassed, but after a second started grinning again. “Okay,” she said, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “It was fucking amazing.” 

Erin laughed again and ran a hand over Claire’s cheek, before she leaned over and kissed her.

“Well, in case you didn’t notice,” Erin told her, “I kind of enjoyed myself too.”

She ran her hand over Claire’s cheek again before adding, “You were wonderful. I really mean it.”

Claire dropped her eyes and smiled a little bashfully, before she snuggled back up against Erin, obviously pleased by her words.

They lay there quietly for a couple of minutes, both feeling comfortable in the silence, just enjoying the closeness and warmth of the other.

Evelyn really did feel quite contented. Maybe this was a job, but for her – and she hoped for Erin too – it seemed like much more. For the first time in a long time she actually felt like she’d made a connection with someone – a real connection.

“It’s a shame,” she thought, a little sadly. She knew there’d be no encore . . . no second ‘date’ . . . because how could she ever hope to explain ‘Claire’ and the circumstances around their meeting.

She glanced up. Erin had laid back again, with her eyes closed and that serene smile on her face. Claire – or was it Evelyn – just watched her for several seconds, and then snuggled against her and closed her eyes too.

They stayed that way for a long while, with neither of them speaking . . . both of them relaxed and drawing comfort from the warmth of the other. 

Finally Claire stirred. She looked at the woman beside her. In a soft voice she spoke her name.

The only response she got was a lazy, “Mmm.” Erin half open her eyes, turned them to Claire . . . and then gave her a sleepy smile.

Claire returned the smile, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Finally she said, “Maybe I should go. I’ve got a morning flight and I’m sure you do too.”

Erin let out another little, “Mmm,” but shook her head and wrapped her arms tightly around one of Claire’s arms. “No,” she finally managed in a sleepy voice. “Stay.”

Claire – or Evelyn – had to think about it. It would be cleaner to just end it here, now. She was torn between what she knew she should do . . . and what she really wanted to do.

Erin seemed to see the conflict in Claire. She tightened her grip on her arm, and now sounding a little more awake said, “I’d really like you to stay. Really.”

Claire/Evelyn found herself staring up at those big, lovely, dark eyes . . . eyes that beseeched her . . . that seemed to beg her to stay. She found herself being swayed . . . although in the direction she knew she really wanted anyway.

Finally she relaxed against Erin, kissed her lightly on the shoulder, and said, “I’d love to stay.” She gave Erin a bashful little smile and in a soft voice said, “Thank you.” She really meant it.

Erin leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. “No . . . thank you,” she whispered, and then kissed Claire again.

When Erin tried to pull away, Claire wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her back. They shared another kiss . . . and then another.

Claire finally let Erin lay back down . . . but then slipped on top of her, burying her head in Erin’s neck and offering small kisses on her throat, her neck, her cheek, her forehead. She found her ear and playfully nibbled it while she planted little kisses all around it.

Erin made no attempt to stop her. 

When Claire’s hand cupped her breast and pinched her nipple, she let out a little moan. She was definitely waking up again. 


	5. Chapter 5

Evelyn slipped into the window seat. The man in the aisle seat had happily move to let her by. Without even looking, she knew he was checking her out. That was just the way men were. He’d probably try to start up a conversation. That was the last thing Evelyn wanted, so she slipped on her noise-cancelling headphones and turned up her music.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Naturally, it immediately filled with images of Erin. She couldn’t help smiling.

It had been a long night, and she was tired, but she also felt energized from her time with Erin. The conversation had been great, the sex had been great – no . . . fucking great! – everything about the evening . . . and the morning . . . had been wonderful. 

“Fuck,” she thought, “This one might take a bit to get over.”

It didn’t happen often – well, not these day, anyways – but every now and then she had a job that really stuck with her. She knew for certain that this was going to be one of those.

They’d probably only slept three or four hours through the night. Erin had a nine a.m. flight, so they needed to be up early. That didn’t stop them from sharing a shower.

Claire’s flight wasn’t until ten thirty, but they’d decided to share a cab to the airport.

Evelyn, again, knew it would have been better to break things off at the hotel, but she didn’t seem to have the will power . . . or was it she really didn’t want their time together to end. So they’d ridden to the airport together . . . in the back of the cab . . . with Erin’s hand on her thigh, working it’s way up under her skirt, massaging her leg while she whispered in Claire’s ear all the things she really wanted to do.

Claire knew the cabbie must have been wondering what was going on in the back of the vehicle . . . what with all the soft words and the shrieks and laughter that was happening. The two of them were oblivious to him though, seemingly only aware of each other.

At the airport, Claire walked Erin to her gate and they talked until her plane loaded. Claire was more than a little surprised when Erin wrapped her arms around her and gave her a long, passionate kiss right in the middle of the terminal.

Claire was sure everyone was looking – you didn’t see two attractive woman sharing a kiss like that in public very often – but surprisingly she didn’t feel the least embarrassed or self-conscious about it.

Just before she’d entered the jet-way, Erin had paused to look back one last time and give Claire a smile and a wave . . . and then she was gone.

They’d talked about staying in touch . . . maybe even getting together. Philly wasn’t that far away, after all. 

Evelyn wondered if Erin had sensed that that would never happen. Maybe. She couldn’t possibly understand the reason, but maybe somewhere in her gut, she knew this was just a happy memory. That’s about what Evelyn was thinking.

They had actually traded numbers, though. The one Claire had given was to a burner phone she had, with the caller ID blocked . . . but maybe they’d keep in touch.

Evelyn actually found herself wondering . . . if Erin suggested they get together . . . maybe somewhere neutral . . . would she seriously consider it. She honestly didn’t know.

For a few seconds her mind turned to the more practical. She was thinking she’d have to be diligent from now on when she attended galas or opening, to make sure Erin wasn’t going to be there. 

She’d thought about it before, when she was researching Erin. She’d noted more than one example of events that both of them had attended in the past . . . when they didn’t know each other. 

Now that had all changed. She was reasonably confident Erin would remember her . . . at least for the next little while.

The last thing Evelyn needed was a pissed off ADA thinking she’d been conned by some upscale whore. Evelyn had serious worries where that might lead. She had no desire to find her name in the headlines and her ass in some woman’s prison.

“A worry for another time,” she thought, and then let the images from the previous night fill her mind again. She was back to smiling and feeling warm and happy inside.


	6. Chapter 6

It was mid-morning, Tuesday, and Evelyn had just returned from a strenuous cardio-pump class. At least five days a week she went to the gym, doing classes, weights, or running on the treadmill. Some days she did all three of them.

She was serious about keeping herself in shape. Her body was her product – or a big part of it – so she did what she could to keep it tuned up.

She knew other women – both in her trade and outside of it – who seemed to rely more on the plastic surgeons than on hard work, but that wasn’t something she believe in. She felt having to get that type of work done was admitting you didn’t have it any more. When she reached that point, she knew she’d just retire.

She was sorting through her mail, while in the back of her mind organizing everything she had to do that day, when she heard a knock at her door.

She stopped what she was doing. It was strange to have someone come right to her door – at least someone who she hadn't let into the building. They had a secure building and all the people in it took that very seriously.

She did have some very powerful clients, though, and she was well aware that normal rules didn’t always apply to them.

So she went to the door, a little cautiously, unsure what to expect. “Hopefully not a Jehovah’s Witness,” she thought and smiled to herself.

She looked through the peephole and actually let out a gasp. She stood there with her mouth hanging open, her heart suddenly racing, and feeling like someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs.

For a few second she remained frozen, unsure what to do. 

There was another hard rap on her door that made her jump. 

She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself while her mind raced, considering different options, trying to make a decision.

She took another quick look at the person in the hallway, took a deep breath, and then reluctantly opened the door.

Erin O’Dell stood there. She wore an expensive tailored business suit, her hair pulled back, and her make-up muted. It all gave her a very serious and professional look. That contrasted with the crooked little smile on her lips and the almost amused gleam in her eyes.

“Why Claire,” she said lightly, like it was a pleasant chance meeting on the street. “It’s been a while. It’s really good to see you.”

Evelyn was unsure, but did her best to hide it.

“Hello, Erin,” she said coolly.

Erin gave her a little pout. “What, no ‘good to see you’?” It almost sounded like she was teasing.

Evelyn took a second, and then said, quite earnestly, “It is good to see you.”

It had been a little over a week. Evelyn had actually found herself checking her burner regularly . . . but she’d been a little surprise – and maybe disappointed – that she hadn't heard anything from Erin.

She’d decided she wouldn’t reach out. If Erin wanted to stay in touch . . . well, she’d consider it. But she wasn’t going to initiate it.

“Well aren’t you going to invite me in, Claire?” Erin kept that friendly smile on her face, but Evelyn had a hard time buying it.

She almost felt nauseous, but she kept her face calm . . . just a little smile . . . her eyes giving away nothing.

She stood eyeing Erin for a couple of seconds, her mind spinning, but then she finally stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. 

She led Erin into her living room and directed her to the large sofa. As Erin sat and crossed her legs, Evelyn slipped across the room to her purse on the counter. 

“God, I need a cigarette,” she decided. She’d been making a serious effort to cut back this last week . . . but now didn’t seem like the time to be denying herself.

She lit it, drew in a deep, calming breath, and then slowly blew the smoke out towards the ceiling. She closed her eyes for a second, looking to calm her racing heart, and then turned and crossed back to the living room to join Erin.

She sat in a large chair, across from Erin, and took another draw on her cigarette.

Erin furrowed her brow slightly before saying, “Cigarettes . . . really a filthy habit, don’t you think? I had no idea.”

Evelyn just smiled and nodded. “You’re absolutely right,” she replied. She looked down at the cigarette in her hand, and then back up at Erin. “I am trying to cut back. I’m sure I’ll quit eventually.” She wasn’t sure why she told her told her that . . . but she’d felt a need to share.

Erin just nodded. She let her eyes roam around the room before returning them to Evelyn. “I thought most of these building were smoke free?” She raised an eyebrow to highlight her question, before adding, again in that teasing voice, “Your condo board is going to be pissed with you.”

Evelyn took another long draw on the cigarette, calmly blew the smoke out – making sure to do it away from Erin – and then said, “Fuck our condo board.”

That seemed to catch Erin off guard. She let out a little laugh. “My, my, Claire, wouldn’t your sister’s kids be shocked by that,” she teased again.

She seemed to smiled in amusement and then let her eyes wander around the room again. “This is really a beautiful place you have here, Claire,” she said, before she turned her focus back to Evelyn.

Evelyn just eyed her and didn’t respond.

Erin furrowed her brow and adopted a puzzled look. “Claire,” she said. “I keep calling you Claire. The funny thing is, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t find any information on a Claire Southerland. Nothing from Philadelphia, nothing with the Pennsylvania Bar Association, nothing.”

She paused for a second, before saying, “But I could find quite a lot on an Evelyn Matthews.”

She locked her eyes on Evelyn’s. The two of them sat there, quietly, just staring at each other.

Evelyn was feeling nauseous again. The pounding in her chest had intensified and she was feeling lightheaded. She was struggling to keep her face calm. 

After a second Erin gave a little smile and said, “Yes, Evelyn Allison Matthews . . . born April 1, 1988 in upstate New York.” She gave a little grin that didn’t seem to hold any humor. “Kind of appropriate I guess – April fools day.”

Evelyn took another draw from her cigarette but remained silent.

Erin continued. “Let’s see, very good student . . . valedictorian for her graduating class – that’s impressive – plus a cheerleader . . . who would have guessed it.” She flashed another quick little smile. “I saw your grad picture from your yearbook – very pretty. Definitely popular in high school I bet.”

Evelyn was sure she was trying to bait her, but she wasn’t biting. She remained quiet and calm, at least on the surface.

“And then off to college – business school. Even back then you were planning on being an entrepreneur, were you?”

Evelyn had no response, so Erin went on.

“Two years of college . . . very good marks, again . . . but then you dropped out.” 

The last statement sounded almost like a question . . . like Erin hadn't been able to fill in a piece of the puzzle.

Evelyn had no intention of commenting, but then found herself saying, “My mother got sick. Lung cancer. That kind of ate up all of my college fund.”

Erin dropped her eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet and very sincere voice.

“Yeah,” Evelyn replied, took another draw on her cigarette and then crushed it out. When she turned her eyes back to Erin, there was no hiding the anger there.

“It took my mother three years to die. That drained everything my father had . . . all of it . . . all his savings . . . he even lost his house.” There was no missing Evelyn’s obvious bitterness.

She paused, but after a few seconds continued, her voice quieter now, tinged with sadness. “He only lasted two years after mom passed away. Having to watch her . . . it drained him too. He just didn’t have the will to continue, I guess. So that was that.”

Both of them were quiet for several minutes.

Finally Evelyn said, “And since I didn’t have a rich mommy and daddy, or a nice trust fund to fall back on, I had to work to pay the bills.” Her voice was as hard as her eyes were as she glared at Erin.

Erin knew that was a shot at her, but ignored it. She took a second, and the continued on with what she knew.

“So the next thing we know, you turned up as an employee at a modelling agency. Although from what I hear, they didn’t really provide girls for too many fashion shoots, right?”

Evelyn was back to her silence, so Erin continued.

“And then four years later, you incorporated your own private company and went into business as president, chief executive officer and the only employee I presume. And you made a very decent go of it – based on your tax records. A regular little capitalist entrepreneur filling what was obviously a very profitable niche in the marketplace.”

Erin paused, perhaps just to let this all sink in . . . all that she knew about Evelyn and her enterprise.

Evelyn stared at her for several seconds, and then in a calm voice asked, “Why is it, if you have natural musical talent, or artistic talent, it’s fine to make a living using those God given gifts? If you can throw a baseball a hundred miles an hours or shoot a ball through a hoop ten feet in the air, it’s fine to make a fortune off those talents? For that matter, if you’re rail thin, six feet tall and have a pretty face, you can be a model and cash in on that. 

“But if you’re an attractive woman, and you want to take advantage of the obviously high demand for your company – and any other talents you might have – well that’s some kind of a sin . . . and a crime. Explain to me how that makes any sense?”

Erin was shaking her head. “Hey I don’t make the laws . . . ,” she started before Evelyn cut her off.

“That’s totally lame and you know it. Your office enforces the laws and decides every day which ones to push and which ones to go easy on. That’s just reality.”

“Yes it is,” Erin admitted. “But you know . . . its all political . . . and that’s reality too. The DA sets the tone and his is a political position. I don’t disagree with you. Our laws on solicitation and prostitution are puritanical. I think they should have been changed years ago. But honestly, given how gutless most politicians are and how they tend to steer clear of any potential wedge issues like this, I don’t see the laws changing any time soon.”

Evelyn had felt a need to get that off her chest, but now she realized it was a pointless discussion. Her mind quickly turned back to her immediate concerns.

She didn’t believe Erin had dug this far into her background just for the fun of it, or even to check her out for her own personal interest. All of this would have taken resources from her office, and Evelyn was pretty sure she’d only use those if there was a legitimate reason behind it.

She had no idea what that might be, but she had no intentions of getting herself caught in the middle of anything. 

Evelyn quickly decided she needed to get out in front of this, so before Erin could say anything else, she said, “Atlantic City. I was approached by some people who wanted me to . . . bump into you . . . be friendly to you . . . .”

“Show me a good time,” Erin interjected.

Evelyn nodded. “Sure. They said it was . . . a perk . . . to recognize your contribution to their conferences.”

Erin nodded her head but didn’t say anything for several seconds. She still had that crooked smile on her face though, which was unnerving Evelyn a little.

Finally she spoke. “And you believed this?” was all she asked.

Evelyn eyed her for a minute, before finally saying, “No. It sounded like total bullshit. But . . . .”

“But they had leverage on you . . . .” Erin offered.

Evelyn nodded. “And I really couldn’t figure an angle . . . I couldn’t see how someone could use this against you,” she added.

Now it was Erin’s turn to nod. That crooked smile found its way back onto her face, and now she seemed even more amused.

Without any preamble, she said two words. “Wilson Thorne.”

For a second Evelyn just stared at her, confused. About the time Evelyn finally made sense of the name, Erin added, “Wil Thorne . . . attorney at law. He’s the one who came to see you.”

Evelyn just stared at her – wondering exactly how much she knew – and then slowly nodded. 

She had already decided she wasn’t going to protect any of these people. She’d warned them as much . . . she’d asked them to confirm to her that what they were doing wasn’t at all questionable . . . so if they had lied, well, c’est la vie. It sucked to be them.

“I should have known . . . I should have found a way to say no,” Evelyn admonished herself. But it was too late now.

She was starting to feel angry at the way she’d been drawn into this. If she was going down . . . for whatever reason . . . she was going to take everyone with her. She was going to cooperate fully and hopefully get herself out of this in one piece . . . or at least without having to serve any jail time. She just had to figure out what ‘this’ was.

Before she could offer anything up, Erin continued. “And Michael Mitchell . . . he was the leverage to get you to go along with this.”

Evelyn nodded again. She made a point of holding Erin’s eyes. She wanted her to see she was being honest . . . and that she was more than a little pissed off at how she’d been used. She needed Erin to understand that.

“Michael Mitchell is not the kind of person you tell ‘no’ . . . when he asks you to do him a personal favor,” Evelyn said, with absolute conviction. “I don’t know if you know him . . . ,” she added, unsure how familiar Erin might be with the man.

Erin’s smiled absently and nodded. “Oh, I’ve been getting to know him quite well of late,” she said quite casually.

Evelyn found that comment troubling. She wondered exactly what it meant . . . but she didn’t have time to dwell on it now.

“I don’t know anything beyond that,” Evelyn continued. “Those were the only two people I talked to. Mike just the once. All the other information came from Thorne. I’d been told he was reputable.”

Erin just nodded, but didn’t say anything. Evelyn was sure this was intentional, to encourage her to keep speaking. She had no problem with that. She was only too willing to tell all.

“They paid for everything, though. My flights, my hotel . . . they made arrangement to get me into the conference as Claire . . . and the money I got . . . maybe you can trace where it came from . . . figure out who was behind this. Because I can honestly tell you, I have no clue.”

Erin’s smile broadened. “Oh, I know where the money came from,” she said, and paused for a beat. 

Her almost gleeful look left Evelyn feeling nervous.

Erin seemed to be loving the suspense. 

Evelyn, not so much. She waited for Erin to speak . . . and just when she thought she couldn’t take it any more, Erin finally continued. “I know, because the money came from me . . . well, from my office.”

Evelyn stared at her . . . confused, wondering if she’d heard her correctly.

“What?” she finally asked. Evelyn was always proud of her ability to remain composed – or at least to appear that way – regardless of the situation. However, this was too much, even for her. Her complete puzzlement was clearly written all over her face.

“What?” she said again, louder this time. She leaned forward in her chair as she stared at Erin. She had the sudden urge for another cigarette. She started to stand, but then caught herself. 

“No,” she said firmly to herself. It was partly about self-control . . . but it was also partly about not showing Erin just how rattled she was.

She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth. She lowered herself slowly back down into her chair and tried to regain her calm. 

After a couple of seconds and a few more cleansing breaths she began to relax. She realized she had a death grip on the arms of the chair, so she release them and carefully folded her hands in her lap.

She took one more deep breath and then turned her eyes back to Erin.

Evelyn was aware that Erin had been watching her. From the amused look on her face, it seemed Erin had enjoyed the way she’d hit her with that little surprise.

Quite calmly now – at least her tone was – Evelyn asked, “Would you care to explain to me . . . exactly what it was that happened in Atlantic City?”

Erin continued to grin at her for a few more seconds, and then finally said, “I guess you could consider it an audition.”

Evelyn continued to stare at her. She didn’t move or respond in any way. It was her turn to use Erin’s trick . . . remaining silent to encourage the other person to continue speaking. It was effective.

“We were thinking there was something you could do to help us out . . . but I needed to get to know you a little better before I was comfortable with that.”

“I think I’ve helped you out enough,” Evelyn said in an icy tone. “So I’m going to give it a pass, thanks.”

“Mike Mitchell had told me about you. He’d said . . . .”

“Fuck Mike Mitchell. I’m not interested. So you can go now.” Evelyn’s tone was cold and forcefully.

She was glaring across the room at Erin. The fear and confusion were gone. They’d been consumed by her sudden anger.

Evelyn wasn’t one to get angry easily . . . but this feeling of being used had certainly triggered her.

Erin met her hard gaze and didn’t back down. They stared at each other for several minutes, neither one willing to turn away.

Finally Erin sat back, seeming to relax, and ran her eyes around the room one more time.

“Like I said, this really is a beautiful place you have here.” Erin’s tone was almost conversationally.

She turned her eyes back to Evelyn. “And I’m sure you have closets full of beautiful clothes . . . a very nice car – I’m not a big fan of Mercedes, personally, but they do have a certain cachet about them, I know.”

Her eyes hardened, as did her voice. “And from what I’ve seen, you have a very substantial stock portfolio.”

Evelyn watched her, warily, uncertain where she was going with all of this but definitely feeling uncomfortable.

Erin let her eyes wander around the room again before returning them to Evelyn.

She looked deadly serious as she said, “I don’t think I’d have any problem convincing the court that all of these were purchased with the proceeds from illegal activities . . . .”

“I have a legitimate business . . . ,” Evelyn began, but Erin continued talking right over her.

“Of course then the statutes would let us seize it all . . . the condo, the car, the clothes, and all your investments.” Her eyes bore into Evelyn. “All gone . . . just like that.” As she spoke she snapped her fingers, just to make the point.

Evelyn glared at her, fighting to keep her anger down . . . but inside her stomach was churning and her head seemed to be spinning. She felt lost. She wanted to cry. And she wanted a fucking cigarette.

After several seconds Erin broke eye contact and leaned back on the sofa. The hardness receded from her face and a small smile appeared.

Without even looking at Evelyn, and in a very casual voice she said, “Of course it doesn’t have to be like that Evelyn.”

Now Erin turned to her, obviously wanting to make sure Evelyn heard and understood her.

“I’m sure we can work something out . . . you know, a little quid pro quo.” After a second she said, “That means . . . ,” but Evelyn cut her off.

“I know what that means,” she snapped. She’d intended to sound cool, but even she though it came across sounding pouty.

They were both quiet again for several seconds. 

Finally Erin slid forward on the sofa and grabbed her purse, apparently getting ready to leave.

“I know this is a big decision . . . probably something you want to think over a bit . . . so I’ll leave you now,” she said.

She stood and stared down at Evelyn. “I’ll give you the day to decide if you want to help us or not.” 

Erin was back to that friendly, almost casual tone . . . and that just infuriated Evelyn all the more.

As she straightened her jacket and slipped her bag over her shoulder she added, “I really wouldn’t think it would be a hard decision . . . considering the alternative.” She let her eyes drift around the room. It wasn’t at all subtle.

Erin headed towards the door and Evelyn rose to follow her. When she reached it she paused and turned back. She gave Evelyn an apologetic little smile and said, “I really do feel bad about this . . . but when you know all the facts, I’m sure you’ll come to see that you’re helping to serve the greater good.”

Erin seemed to wait a second for Evelyn to soften, but that didn’t happen. She continued. “You can tell me tonight. I’ve made a reservation at Michael Anthony’s . . . nine o’clock.”

Michael Anthony’s was a very upscale and very exclusive restaurant. Evelyn had been there a couple of times, but she knew the only reason she was able to get in was that her clients had arranged the reservations. She was sure she should be impressed . . . but she was way too pissed off.

Erin was still talking. “I hope nine isn’t too late for you. I like to eat a little later. Because some of us have to work late . . . even us people with trust funds . . . so we can keep the streets of the city safe for all you citizens.”

She grinned. They both knew she’d used that line before . . . under much different circumstances. 

Evelyn’s face didn’t change.

Erin nodded before adding, “The dinner . . . it’s just my way of showing my appreciation to you. Have you been to Michael Anthony’s? Someone with your taste, I’m certain you’ll love it.”

She turned to go, paused, and then quickly turned back. “I probably don’t have to tell you . . . but make sure you dress appropriately. They’re very particular.”

She opened the door and left without looking back.

Evelyn just stood there, staring at the door, feeling like she wanted to throw something. “Preferably at that bitch,” her brain roared.

She stormed back into her apartment. “I need a fucking cigarette,” she thought, “and right fucking now.”

She grabbed one from her purse, lit it and took a long drag. She blew out a stream of smoke, while her mind roiled. “Fuck my health anyways,” she muttered bitterly. 

“Fuck that, fuck the condo board . . . and fuck Erin fucking O’Dell.”


	7. Chapter 7

The maître d’ led Evelyn to the back of the restaurant. To her surprise, he slid open a panel and ushered her into a small, very comfortable looking private room. “Your guest will be joining you shortly,” he informed her, and then turned and quietly left, sliding the panel closed as he did.

It wasn’t like she was a regular at the restaurant, but she had been there before. She’d had no idea that this room even existed, though. 

“It makes sense,” she thought. The main dining room did offer considerable privacy, but certainly some of their clientele would demand even more. And the customers here were the types of people who would gladly pay for it.

The room featured a table with two chairs at one end, as well as two deep, leather arm chairs along the opposite wall to allow the customers to relax in comfort while they socialized or waited on their meals.

Evelyn had to admit, she was impressed. Not that she’d ever let Erin know this.

Of course she’d spent her whole day thinking about her meeting with Erin that morning. 

Once she got over her initial rage – and that had taken longer than she thought it would – she’d calmly gone through her options. She’d finally admitted she had very few – at least with what she knew. She hoped that when she had more information – when she knew what Erin wanted – she might be in a better position.

So she decided to hear Erin out and cooperate – probably – providing she had some form of iron-clad immunity, in writing, that would keep her from losing everything. Because she knew that was something she just couldn’t face.

It didn’t mean she’d meekly accepted her fate. Evelyn was still pissed . . . but she knew she’d have to manage that. And she’d had plenty of experience showing people whatever face they wanted to see . . . so that wasn’t something that worried her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be a total bitch to that woman,” she thought, and that put a small smile on her face.

In fact, she’d dressed with that in mind. 

Evelyn realized that Erin had some talent of her own in playing a part. She was willing to admit that Erin had given a splendid performance at the convention in Atlantic City. She’d had not even an inkling that Erin knew who she was or why she was there. No, Evelyn hadn't suspected a thing . . . and she considered herself quite adept at picking up on other people’s deceptions. 

Not that there was any reason she should have suspected anything of Erin. The thought that she was in on whatever had been going on had never even crossed her mind . . . honestly, it still kind of blew her away.

But in spite of Erin’s stellar performance, there were some things Evelyn was confident she just couldn’t have faked . . . like the way she’d looked at Evelyn when they were in her room . . . during those first kisses . . . and when they were in bed. Evelyn felt quite confident that those intense, lust-filled looks were very genuine.

That’s why Evelyn decided on the outfit she wore that evening. It was certainly professional . . . but it was perhaps a little provocative as well.

When she was younger, Evelyn would regularly dress to show off her body. The way she looked was definitely an asset in her business . . . and something her customers clearly appreciated. 

But as she’d gotten older – and maybe as her clientele became more regular and more upscale – she’d become much more subtle in how she’d dressed. She certainly didn’t hide her curves – the clothing she wore actually accentuated them – but she only showed enough skin, usually, to hint at what lay beneath. 

She’d let her customers use their imaginations . . . let them conjure up visions of the delights that awaited them . . . and as their time together wore on, their anticipation would build. She felt this heightened their experience . . . and kept her clients coming back for more.

But she had no intentions of being so subtle with Erin. 

It had been a while since she’d worn a push-up bra, but she found she was very pleased with the results. With the silky white top she’d chosen, it offered a splendid view of her rather impressive cleavage. 

The suit she’d chosen was dark, with a knee length skirt that was slit up to her hip to show off her shapely legs, plus a jacket that hugged Evelyn’s curves but was cut to accentuate her milky white breasts that were on display. When she’d stood in front of the mirror, she’d been quite pleased with the way it looked.

“Fuck you, bitch,” she’d thought with a little smile. “Take a good look at what you had . . . and know you won’t be getting any of this ever again.” 

It was maybe a little childish and petty, but it somehow made Evelyn feel better. This at least she could control . . . “And if it distracts Erin fucking O’Dell, all the better,” she thought.

She’d put her hair up, just letting a few stray strands dangle strategically around her face, and had done a careful job with her make up. As she viewed the finished product, she smiled. She thought she looked quite amazing . . . and she wasn’t typically one prone to false praise. 

When she’d slipped off her overcoat to reveal herself at the front of the restaurant, she’d even caught the very proper maître d’ sneaking a quick look. 

He’d seemed somewhat aghast by his slip, but Evelyn had given him a little smile – almost an, ‘I dressed this way to be appreciated, so don’t worry’, smile – and then ignored it, which the man seemed to appreciate.

She was feeling quite confident that Erin would notice her as well. Again she smiled.

Evelyn had been waiting less than a minute when another panel at the back of the room slid open and a waitress appeared. She was slim, dark haired and quite pretty – perhaps in her late twenties – and she maintained a very prim, proper demeanor. You’d get no bubbly, giggling waitresses here like you might in a family restaurant. Of course Michael Anthony’s probably paid more, and the tips were undoubtedly much larger than you’d see at most other restaurants . . . for those in the wait staff who could be professional and discrete.

The waitress asked Evelyn if she’d like a drink. 

Evelyn thought for a moment before saying, “Yes. Could you bring me a glass of your best single malt scotch . . . no, make that two glasses. One on the rocks and one neat.”

The waitress nodded and silently disappeared.

Evelyn sat down in one of the large leather chairs. She crossed her legs, and was pleased by just how much showed with the high slit in her skirt.

She sat herself up straight, almost posing, awaiting Erin’s arrival. 

After a couple of minutes the back panel in the room slid open again and the waitress reappeared with the drinks. Without a word she set them on the small table in front of the two leather chairs and turned to leave. As she slid open the panel she almost bumped into Erin who was standing there.

“Oh, excuse me,” the waitress said immediately and stood aside so Erin could enter. 

Erin gave the woman a little smile and a nod of acknowledgement as she entered, and then stepped to the side to let her leave. When the waitress was gone and the panel had been closed, she finally turned to Evelyn.

Evelyn caught the way Erin’s eyes widened just slightly when she saw her, and how they quickly ran over her before they found their way to her eyes.

A little smile appeared on Erin’s lips. “Well, Ms. Matthews, you certainly are looking lovely tonight,” she said playfully. She let her eyes stray again for another second and her smile seemed to widen.

Evelyn just stared coolly up at Erin. She held the glass of scotch out in front of her and slowly swirled the amber liquid as her cold eyes held Erin’s. She didn’t say a word. She took a sip of the scotch and relished how the smoky liquid burned its way down her throat and brought a pleasant warmth to her stomach.

After another couple of seconds Evelyn finally said, “I took the liberty of ordering you a drink.” She liked saying that. It made it feel like she was in control – just a little bit.

Erin continued to smile. She sat, picked up the glass and raised it to Evelyn. “Thank you,” she said before she took a sip.

“Mmm,” she murmured as she tasted the scotch. She turned her eyes back to Evelyn. “Very nice,” she said, and then grinned. “I suspect that’s going to cost me,” she joked.

Evelyn just gave her a tight little smile, took another sip of her own scotch, and said nothing.

The two sat quietly for several minutes, just enjoying their drinks. 

Evelyn had noticed that Erin wore the same suit she’d had on in the morning, so she suspected she had indeed come directly from work. She didn’t miss that Erin had undone a button or two on her blouse – she wasn’t flaunting anything so she assumed it was just for comfort – and she’d let her hair down. 

She decided she liked it better down like that . . . and then decided she shouldn’t care how Erin fucking O’Dell wore her hair.

Finally Erin broke the silence. “I’m really not thrilled about doing this to you. If I had another way, I’d use it.” She sounded quite earnest.

She turned to Evelyn, who was sitting motionless, with her eyes focused across the room.

“When you know the details – assuming you want to help – I think you’ll agree this is a worthwhile venture,” she continued.

“How does what I want have any bearing on this,” Evelyn replied, her voice thick with bitterness. She didn’t move or shift her gaze.

Erin was quiet for several seconds before she said, “Milan Kolkov. Have you heard of him?”

Evelyn took a moment and then gave her head a little shake. “No. What is he, some kind of Russian mobster?” She was annoyed that she couldn’t seem to keep the anger out of her voice.

“No, he’s not a mobster,” Erin said. “I wouldn’t get you involved with the Russian mafia,” she added quietly.

She sounded quite sincere to Evelyn . . . but she wasn’t prepared to give her a lot of credit for that. 

Erin took a second before saying, “He’s worse. He’s a hedge fund manager.”

In spite of herself Evelyn turned and glanced at Erin . . . who had that crooked smile on her face again. Apparently that was one of her go-to looks.

Erin must have assumed she now had Evelyn’s attention because she continued on.

“Milan Kolkov is actually from Belarus. His parents emigrated to the States when he was three. They both teach at MIT – fully tenured professors. The father teaches theoretical physics and the mother teaches some kind of advanced mathematics that I won’t even pretend I understand.”

“So Milan, I guess, has good genes. He was some kind of a math prodigy, he went to Harvard on a scholarship at sixteen, but after a couple of semesters skipped out of math and into finance. It appears young Milan realized there was no money in being a math nerd.

“When he came out of Harvard, he moved onto Wall Street. It took a few years, but he established himself as some kind of whiz kid . . . made himself and his company a fortune . . . and made a ton of enemies too, apparently . . . before jumping ship and starting his own hedge fund company. 

“That was eight years ago. His funds have beaten the market in seven of those eight years . . . so obviously he’s in high demand with investors.”

Erin paused and took a sip of her scotch. 

After savoring it for a few seconds, she added, “And we think he’s totally fucking dirty . . . in a dozen different ways.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened just a bit at that statement. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She kind of knew there had to be some crook involved for the DA’s office to want her ‘help’. It just seemed that Erin actually saying it suddenly made it seem very real.

Her head was spinning with questions, but she took a breath and tried to calm herself. She needed to organize her thoughts, she decided, before she asked anything.

Erin took another sip of her drink. 

Evelyn watched her as she closed her eyes for a second and seemed to relax into the rich leather chair. It suddenly struck her that Erin looked tired . . . maybe a bit drained. She’d seen that look before and recognized it.

Again, she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. She suspected being an ADA in New York was a stressful job.

Erin finally opened her eyes and looked at Evelyn.

“So that’s who we’re going after,” she said quietly.

She gave Evelyn a little smile. “People in my office would be pissed that I’d told you so much without having you sign a dozen papers saying you won’t disclose this information to anybody . . . .”

She didn’t finish, so Evelyn added, “ . . . but you figured I had no choice but to help.” There was still a hint of that bitterness in her voice.

Erin sat back and closed her eyes again, before saying, “You always have a choice . . . depending on what you can live with.” It sounded like Erin got no joy out of saying those words.

Evelyn stared at her and tried to bite back her anger . . . but failed. “Fuck you,” she hissed, her voice filled with venom.

Erin didn’t move or respond. After a second she took a deep breath and sat back up, facing Evelyn.

“We need to get inside Kolkov’s world and we’ve tried, but he’s very careful. The thing is, we think you can get in.”

Evelyn just stared at her, uncertain what to make of that statement.

“If we do this right, you shouldn’t ever have to testify. There’s no reason anyone even has to know you were involved in any way,” she continued.

Erin bit her lip and then added, “I won’t pretend I can guarantee that . . . that no one will ever find out . . . but it’s what we’re aiming for, and it should be doable.”

Evelyn head was spinning. She wasn’t sure where to start. Finally she asked, “Is he dangerous?”

Erin gave her a reassuring little smile. “No. We have no reason to believe he is. He’s a numbers geek. Usually if he’s pissed with someone he sends his lawyers after them. And if that were to somehow happen to you, well, we’d have your back.” Her smile broadened a bit as she added, “Plus, I hear you have some pretty powerful friends of your own.”

Evelyn thought for a second before saying, “If I’m involved and this became public, I’d be out of business. I’m sure every one of these guys has things they don’t want someone like you to see . . . and if they think I might be working for you, well, they’ll dump me in a second.” 

She gave a sad little smile before adding, “There’s no shortage of good looking women out there who’d be only too happy to do whatever one of those guys wanted.”

Erin reached across and rested her hand lightly on Evelyn’s. “From what I’m hearing,” she said, “You’re providing a little more than just a hot body.”

They sat there, staring at each other for a few seconds, before Erin removed her hand and took another sip from her drink.

Evelyn’s brain was still in turmoil . . . and Erin’s touch had only added to it.

“Why the fuck didn’t I rip my hand away or tell not to touch me,” her brain screamed. She didn’t know the answer.

They heard a soft knock on the back panel and both of them looked up sharply. After a second, Erin said, “Yes.”

The panel slid open and the waitress’s face appeared in the crack. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked. “Some more drinks . . . or are you ready to look at the menus?”

Erin glanced over at Evelyn. “Another drink?” she asked.

Evelyn gave a little nod, so Erin turned to the waitress and said, “Two more of the same, thanks.”

The two woman kept their silence until the waitress reappeared with their drinks.

Once she was gone, Evelyn spoke. “You said you think I can get to Kolkov. How? I don’t even know this guy. I’m pretty certain I’ve never met him. So how?”

Erin sat forward. “Michael Mitchell . . . ,” she began, but Evelyn cut her off.

“Are you investigating him too?” she asked. She was watching Erin closely now.

Erin took a second. Evelyn was sure she was trying to decide whether to lie or tell her the truth. But finally she sighed and said, “Yeah . . . Mike’s been a bad boy and we caught him with his pants down. It won’t ruin him, but it won’t do much for his reputation.”

She got a little smile. “Mike’s decided to cooperate, though. It seems he knows lots of things that are going on – in fact, he put us on to Kolkov.”

She was quiet for a moment while Evelyn processed that.

“He’s also the one who mentioned you,” Erin added.

Evelyn looked up sharply, not fully understanding.

Erin must have seen that confusion, because she explained. “Apparently Mike and Kolkov travel in some of the same circles. It seems that Kolkov has even seen you with Mike . . . and apparently he liked what he saw.”

When she paused, Evelyn gave a little smile and said, “Either that or he just wanted to have what Mike had. These guys can be a little childish sometimes.”

Erin smiled at that. She took a second before continuing. “I guess Kolkov found out a bit about you – how you were very exclusive – and asked Mike if he’d introduce you to him. I’m sure Kolkov felt he was big enough to join that exclusive club of yours.” She paused and that crooked smile appeared again. “I guess Milan thought he was ready to play with the big boys.”

Evelyn looked a little uncertain. “Mike never mentioned anything to me.”

Erin’s smile grew. “Chalk it up to more childishness from the boys,” she said with a little laugh. “It turns out that Mike isn’t a big fan of Milan’s. In fact, he thinks Milan’s a bit of an arrogant jerk. So, yeah, he never mentioned it to you. 

“But he made a point of telling Milan you weren’t interested in adding to your clientele. I’m not sure if he kept it general like that, or if he said you weren't interested in adding _him,_ specifically. I haven't really gotten a straight answer on that from Mike.”

Evelyn knew Mike well enough to know it could have gone either way, depending on how much this Milan was annoying him at the time. If he was being an ass, Mike wouldn’t hesitate to rub his face in something like this. And probably the next time the two men were scheduled to be at an event, he would have made a point of having her along, just to really irritate him.

She gave her head a little shake. “Absolute children,” she mumbled and couldn’t help smiling.

The words brought a smile to Erin’s lips too. She didn’t say anything, she just swirled the ice cubes around in her drink and then took a sip. Evelyn joined her.

They sat there quietly. “Was this some kind of unacknowledged truce,” Evelyn wondered.

She was finding she’d lost a lot of her anger. She wasn’t sure if that was just a product of time, if it was the drinks . . . or maybe it was because this didn’t appear near as bad as she’d feared.

She glanced at Erin, and could see she was watching her.

She took another sip of her scotch, savored the flavor for a moment, and then turned her full attention to Erin.

“If I do this,” she said, “I need to know you aren’t going to come after me . . . and that you’re not going to push me to talk about my other clients.”

Erin looked like she was going to say something, but Evelyn held up her hand to stop her. 

“Just so you know, I make it a policy not to get involved in any of the business of my clients. On day one I spell it out to them that that’s not something I want to talk about or hear about . . . just so I can avoid ever being put in a situation like this. I really don’t know anything – by design – so there’s no point you even trying to go down that path me.”

Erin was nodding her head. “Of course. You help us with this and you’re totally off our radar.”

She got that crooked smile again. “Well, you’re off the radar of the DA’s office, at least,” she added. She ran her eyes over Evelyn suggestively, as if to say, “I, personally, might still have some interest.”

Evelyn wasn’t sure how to react to that. She realized she still wasn’t totally over her anger . . . but the way Erin was eyeing her was affecting her somewhat – which surprised her a little.

She tried to pick up where she’d left off. “I need something in writing,” she said.

Erin nodded. “Of course. I can have that to you tomorrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

Evelyn sat in her living room – on the sofa Erin had occupied that morning – with the lights out and a glass of scotch in her hands. As she sipped it, she found herself appreciating just how good the scotch at the restaurant had been. And she knew the scotch she bought for herself wasn’t cheap.

“I wonder how much that ended up costing her,” she pondered . . . and couldn’t help smiling.

The meal she’d had had been of the same calibre as the scotch . . . and to be honest – though she was reluctant to admit it – the company she’d had was quite enjoyable too.

They’d pretty much dealt with business – well, the major points – before they’d ordered their dinners. There were, of course, still details they discussed during the meal.

The major one that stood out to Evelyn was the question of how they’d maintain contact. How was she going to communicate with Erin and her people . . . so she could share whatever information she’d found and they could feed back to her any information on the progress of the case?

It surprised Evelyn when Erin had said, “I want to be your contact . . . directly.”

Evelyn had just stared at her for a few seconds, the surprise quite apparent on her face.

Finally she’d asked the obvious question, “Why?”

She thought that sounded dangerous . . . having Erin involved. Why would they want to risk such a connection between the two of them? Wouldn’t that increase the chances that someone would discover it, and couldn’t that easily unravel this whole thing?

Erin dropped her eyes and Evelyn noticed her biting her lip – something she seemed to do when she was thinking. Evelyn was certain she was wondering again how much she should share. She started to wonder if there was vital information she wasn’t being told.

Finally Erin stopped with the lip biting, adjusted her shoulders, and turned her eyes to Evelyn. Maybe she was putting on a performance, but Evelyn felt quite convinced that she’d made a decision . . . one that she had struggled to come to.

After eyeing Evelyn for several seconds, Erin said in a deadly serious voice, “I want to deal with you directly . . . because I want to keep the circle of people who are aware of you and what you’re trying to do as small as possible.”

Evelyn considered that for a second before asking the next obvious question. “Why is that? Do you have concerns . . . about people in your office?”

Erin hesitated again. She took a sip of her drink and then pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. 

When she finally raised her eyes again, her face was solemn. “There are a lot of ambitious people in the DA’s office,” she began slowly, almost like she was reluctant to put her thoughts into words. “I think some of them might think being friends with someone like Milan Kolkov would be a good career move . . . so they might be tempted . . . .”

When she didn’t finish her thought, Evelyn did it for her. “Tempted to give him a warning . . . to give me up to gain his favor . . . and maybe a nice corporate job down the road for say, three, four times their current salary.”

“At least,” Erin confirmed.

They were both quiet for a minute. Finally Erin said, “I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear . . . but I’m trying to be honest with you. I really am trying to do everything I can to protect you.”

Evelyn could hear the sincerity in her voice. Sure, Erin had dragged her into this – and that still pissed her off – but her honesty and her obvious concern for Evelyn’s wellbeing were starting to offset those feelings. Evelyn wasn’t sure where that left her.

They sat in silence for several moments. Evelyn had a bite of her salmon – which was absolutely amazing – while Erin still seemed to be more playing with her food.

It was apparent to Evelyn that there was more that Erin seemed to be struggling to tell her. She gave her a chance, but when she seemed to make no effort, Evelyn asked, “So how are we going to do it . . . keep in contact . . . so no one will know or find out?”

Erin finally stopped playing with her food. She took a second, and then fixed her eyes on Evelyn. She took a second . . . but then in a confident tone said, “We’re going to hide in plain sight.”


	9. Chapter 9

It was a fundraising gala for the Children’s Hospital. Evelyn was in a beautiful red dress, smiling, looking radiant on Michael Mitchell’s arm. He was a major sponsor, so of course he was there and of course he’d invited one of his favorite socialite friends. 

That was how the press who covered such events – and many of the attendees – knew Evelyn. Her actual history was a closely guarded secret – for obvious reasons – but the press that covered these types of events weren't exactly the ones that would bother digging into the backgrounds of the guests.

A member of the press had once asked Evelyn about the source of her apparent wealth – she was sure at the time his interest in her had less to do with his job and more to do with the way she looked in her revealing dress. She’d told him, with an amused little smile, “I got my money the old fashion way . . . I inherited it.” It was an old line, but it always worked.

Michael was making the rounds, chatting with the wealthy and powerful who attended such events, doing his best to push them to commit some of their wealth to the cause. He could be quite persuasive when he put his mind to it.

And Evelyn was the perfect accessory for him – chatting with the wives while the men talked ‘business’, or if the wives were elsewhere, happily smiling, looking alluring, maybe even flirting to put the men in a cheery, giving mood.

They’d been there over an hour when they made their way over to one of the other major donors, Walter O’Dell, his wife Gwen, and their daughter Erin.

With Gwen being a pediatric surgeon, she was naturally supportive of causes such as this.

Michael said his hellos, and then introduced Evelyn to the O’Dell’s. 

Evelyn turned up her charm as she shook Walter and Gwen’s hands, telling them she was so pleased to meet other people who were so supportive of this very worthy cause.

As she took Erin’s hand she gave her a warm smile and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

Erin gave her a brilliant smile in return. “It’s so nice to meet you too.” She held onto Evelyn’s hand for a few extra seconds while the she kept her eyes locked on Evelyn’s.

Gwen grumbled a soft, reproachful, “Erin.”

Erin glanced at her mother, playfully rolled her eyes, and then turned her attention – and her smile – back to Evelyn. She still had her hand.

“Mother,” she said lightly, “I’ve seen this beautiful woman at any number of galas, but we’ve never been introduced. I think it’s just very nice to finally meet her, okay?”

Erin finally released Evelyn’s hand. Evelyn hesitated, and then slipped her arm around Mitchell’s again before letting her eyes dropped. She bashfully glanced back up at Erin, who refused to look away. The two shared another smile while Gwen’s face froze in a disapproving frown.

Meanwhile, Michael and Walter were immersed in a discussion of the oil industry and Middle Eastern politics and didn’t have the slightest inkling about anything happening with the ‘women’.

They wrapped up their discussion and Michael said, “We’d better mingle some. We’ll talk to you later, Walter, Gwen . . . ah, Erin.” He said it like he’d struggled to remember her name. Evelyn decided he was pretty decent at this too. Something to remember.

Evelyn also offered her good-byes to Walter and Gwen . . . and then Erin . . . where her eyes lingered for an extra second before she turned away.

Her and Michael had taken half a dozen steps when she glanced back over her shoulder to find Erin’s eyes were still on her. She gave her a coy little smile . . . and then finally turned away.

Their performance might have been subtle, but it was noticed by some . . . and it wasn’t over yet. After a bit Michael wandered off to talk more business with people, leaving Evelyn on her own. It wasn’t like she had any problem socializing . . . she’d met many of the people at the event more than once . . . and being both attractive and intelligent, there were any number of groups that welcomed her into their midst.

It didn’t take Erin long to find her. Evelyn was chatting with two older ladies about the latest exhibit at the Met when Erin joined them. The O’Dells were friends with the family of one of ladies, so it was only natural that she would come by to say hello.

There was nothing overt, but Evelyn and Erin seemed to be standing close together, and they seemed to drift off into a conversation of their own more than once. 

They’d separated after a few minutes, but seemed to keep finding each other throughout the evening. Their conversations became longer . . . and more animated . . . until they found their way to a couple of seats in a distant corner where they spent twenty minutes or more talking and laughing.

Michael seemed almost put out when he found Evelyn. “That’s where you got to,” he snapped. “I’ve been looking all over.” He said it loud enough for others to hear.

Evelyn, of course acted suitably annoyed by his behavior, but joined him after saying a very warm good-bye – complete with a little hug – to Erin. 

The way she walked with Mitchell as they left – her head high, her face frozen and her eyes cold and focused straight ahead – prompted one partygoer to say, “I don’t think Mike’s going to be getting any tonight.” The men around him all agreed and laughed . . . although secretly most of them dreamed they’d be leaving with a woman like Evelyn.


	10. Chapter 10

Evelyn hung up the phone and then relaxed into the luxury of the big arm chair. She ran her eyes around the room – a large and very nicely appointed hotel room that she’d checked into just a half hour earlier.

She felt a little tired, but after giving it a moment’s reflection, confirmed to herself that she felt surprisingly happy.

It had been just over a week since the gala . . . and it had been a busy week.

Nice and early Monday morning she’d made a call to Erin at her office. Erin rarely took personal calls during work hours – at least not on her office line – but when her administrator had told her it was a ‘Ms. Matthews’, Erin had acted appropriately pleased and had taken the call immediately. She hadn't actually been expecting the call, so she didn’t have work at acting surprised. 

They’d chatted for almost twenty minutes – an eternity for someone as busy as Erin – which, of course was noted. Her administrator also noted how cheery Erin was immediately afterwards, when she’d asked her to make a reservation for dinner the next evening at Giordano’s, a quiet, out of the way Italian restaurant.

Giordano’s wasn’t a trendy place, but it was established enough that there was steady traffic through it, even on a Tuesday night. Erin and Evelyn had sat at a quiet table near the back, but they were fully visible to anyone who happened to be at the restaurant. 

They’d shared a bottle of wine while they ate and talked quietly. Anyone glancing their way might have notice how intently they gazed at each other as they spoke, how frequently one or the other found a reason to reach out and touch an arm or a hand, or the way their smiles never seemed to leave their faces. Their rendezvous might have been just two very close friends catching up . . . or it might have been something else . . . .

Wednesday Evelyn had an engagement with a client in the evening, but she did manage to catch Erin on the phone in her office for five minutes at lunch. 

Thursday Erin took off early for lunch – another rarity for her – and met Evelyn at a little bistro just down from her office. Again, they were low key, but they weren't exactly hiding the point that they were getting together.

Both Friday and Saturday evenings Evelyn was busy, but on Sunday afternoon they had gone to the Museum of Modern Art and spent a couple of hours wandering around and admiring the works. Afterwards they’d grabbed a drink, but Erin was expected at her parent’s for dinner, so they’d said their good-byes on the sidewalk – including a hug and a little kiss on the cheek from Evelyn – and headed their separate ways.

Erin had made a point of being decidedly upbeat around her friends and colleagues during the week . . . which, honestly, she wasn’t finding all that hard to manage. Some of her friends did ask if there was a reason for it . . . someone new in her life, maybe . . . but she’d just laughed and brushed them off without comment.

A knock at the door interrupted Evelyn’s thoughts. It was room service, delivering the bottle of chilled white wine that she’d ordered. She’d made sure to tell them to bring two glasses.

After the young man had left she poured herself a glass and curled back up in the big chair. Her mind wandered back to the night at Michael Anthony’s.

When Erin had proposed her plan – some involvement between her and Evelyn, to hide the real reason they needed to meet and talk – Evelyn had been a little shocked. 

“We’d want to keep it low key,” Erin had said. “That only makes sense, with me being an ADA and you . . . .” 

Erin hadn’t finished the sentence, so Evelyn happily supplied, “With me being a lawless hussy operating on the fringes of society?”

Erin had laughed at that description. She’d grinned and said, “Yeah . . . that.”

Evelyn had thought about it for a minute before saying, “So we keep it quiet . . . but just public enough so the word gets out.” She nodded. She could see the genius in it.

“You know how the rumor mill works around here . . . especially with something juicy like this,” Erin had said. That crooked little smile of hers made an appearance. “In no time people will know about it, even if we don’t actually attend any events together.”

Evelyn had nodded again. It made sense to her. “And once it’s out there, I guess we can even meet up at your place . . . or mine.”

“No,” Erin said immediately. “Our places would be too easy to bug . . . our phones too . . . and I don’t want to have to start having them swept. Too many people could hear about that. If I suddenly started doing it, it might get someone’s attention and then they might wondering why . . . what it was I was working on.”

Evelyn had stared at her for a few seconds. Finally, in a quiet voice she’d asked, “Are you being a bit paranoid?”

Erin seemed to consider the question for a bit before she admitted, “Maybe.”

She’d held Evelyn’s eyes and in an earnest voice had said, “I want to play it safe, though. I really want to get this bastard . . . and I don’t want to put you in any danger.” She paused before adding, “I don’t want this blowing up because we were careless.”

It struck Evelyn how often Erin seemed to comment on efforts to keep her safe, or to keep her from being exposed. She was starting to believe she really did care . . . and that kind of touched her. It especially affected her because at that point she wasn’t exactly thinking of Erin in the best light.

“You’ve got some clients who might be concerned about what you and I are talking about . . . and all of them have the resources to get into our lives,” Erin continued. “And that’s on top of anybody who might have an interest in what I’m working on.”

She gave a little smile. “Between us, we could end up having half a dozen people who want to bug us to make sure we’re not going after them.”

Evelyn knew that what Erin said was true. She’d never worried about it in the past. She always assumed that some of her clients kept an eye on her and maybe periodically checked into her, but she’d just considered it part of the price of the business she was in.

Again, she couldn’t exactly change her routine . . . suddenly start checking for bugs or phone taps or being all secretive . . . at least not without a good reason. 

Since Evelyn felt she had no choice but to help Erin out, she decided that this was as good a plan as any. It really minimized her contact with people from the DA’s office – hopefully to just Erin – so that should reduce the possibility of leaks coming from that side. Plus, the idea seemed believable enough that Evelyn thought it wouldn’t garner too much scrutiny. 

Maybe a bit, initially, she thought, but after Atlantic City, she had no doubts that both her and Erin could sell it quite convincingly. No one would suspect what existed between them was anything but what they wanted people to believe.

It was already public knowledge that Erin dated women – that definitely helped. Evelyn was a bit more of an enigma . . . at least her public face.

Her dating life – her real dating life outside of her professional work – wasn’t public at all. She had dated a bit over the years, but it was difficult given her line of work. Men tended to have a problem seeing their girlfriend in the papers, on the arm of another man, and knowing that she probably slept with him too.

No matter who it was and how things started, every relationship she’d been in had blown up over her work. Eventually she’d just accepted the fact. She actually hadn't been on a real date in the last two years . . . and she was fine with that.

Did that leave her anticipating whatever this would be with Erin? That was a question Evelyn was having trouble answering. She knew she had enjoyed their time together in Atlantic City . . . and she’d enjoyed their time together this past week. 

Erin was very outgoing and a lot of fun, and Evelyn found her very easy and entertaining to talk to. But was that any more real than the performances she put on for her clients? She really wasn’t sure.

Evelyn continued to ponder this as she sipped her wine. Finally she heard a light knock on the door. 

She actually felt a little nervous as she rose. “This is stupid,” she told herself even as she smoothed out her dress.

When Evelyn opened the door, she found herself smiling – playing her role – as she welcomed Erin into the room. She slipped her arms around Erin’s neck and gave her a slow, lingering kiss as the door slowly swung closed behind them. 

There was no one there to see it . . . but Evelyn knew that wasn’t a reason not to do it. You just never knew. There could have been someone passing by who might have noticed. And when you were in your role, you played it out completely . . . just to be sure.

When Evelyn released her, Erin was grinning. “Mmm, that’s the kind of welcome I could get used to,” she sighed as Evelyn turned and retreated into the room.

Evelyn curled back up in her chair and took a sip of her wine. She gave Evelyn a little smile and said, “I’m glad you appreciated my performance.” With a crooked little smile of her own she added, “I do aim to please . . . and to keep it as real as possible.”

Erin watched her for a few seconds, seemingly trying to decide if it was all really part of the act . . . but from what Evelyn could see, she didn’t really reach a conclusion.

Evelyn set her wine glass down, lifted the bottle and cocked an brow. “Some wine,” she asked? 

“Oh, God, yes,” Erin moaned as she closed her eyes and shifted her shoulders to try and relieve some of the tension.

As she poured the wine, Evelyn continued to speak. “I took the liberty of ordering a bottle for us. Quite a nice, light Moscato. I hope you’ll like it.”

She carried the glass over to Erin and waited patiently while she took a sip . . . and then smiled. She turned her eyes to Evelyn. “That’s just perfect. I so needed that,” she said, her voice filled with real appreciation.

Evelyn found herself smiling. She realized she was slipping into the typical role she played with a client . . . solicitous, anticipating the other’s wants and needs, and doing everything in her powers to meet them. Knowing this really didn’t trouble her. She was comfortable in that role . . . and she really didn’t mind pampering Erin.

She watched Erin as she took another sip of wine. When she closed her eyes and shifted her shoulders again, Evelyn could see the tension – and the weariness – in her. In spite of how she downplayed it any time Evelyn mentioned it, she was certain the stress of her job was having an impact on Erin.

As she walked over to a straight backed chair, Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at Erin and said, “Come here.”

Erin seemed a little uncertain, but smiled anyway and said, “Okay.”

She seemed maybe a little surprised when Evelyn undid the button on the front of Erin’s suit jacket and carefully slipped it from her shoulders. 

Evelyn laid it across the arm of another chair, and then turned and patted the back of the straight backed chair. “Have a seat,” she said, maybe a little forcefully.

There was still a hint of uncertainty in Erin’s mind, but she was grinning as she said, “Yes, ma’am,” and slipped into the chair.

Evelyn moved around behind her and placed her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “You look way too tense,” she almost scolded her. “So close your eyes . . . relax for a few minutes.”

As she spoke Evelyn began to dig her fingers into Erin’s tight shoulders, trying to massage out all the stress.

Evelyn knew what she was doing. She’d taken several courses on massage therapy – it was a good skill to have in her line of work. It was something she found all of her client’s truly appreciated.

Erin let out a little moan as Evelyn began to work on her tense muscles. “God, that feels good,” she sighed.

She let out an even louder moan when Evelyn dug her fingers into a tight knot she discovered. She knew she didn’t take it easy when she gave a massage, but Evelyn knew that was the way it had to be done to be effective.

She worked across Erin’s shoulder and up her neck, kneading her muscles until she began to feel her relax. “Oh, that feels so good,” Erin moaned as she closed her eyes and just let the tension drain from her body.

Evelyn found herself smiling. She was pleased by her results, and because Erin seemed to be appreciating it so much. After another loud moan, Evelyn leaned down close to Erin’s ear and said, “With all your moaning, if anyone’s listening at the door, they’re really going to wonder what I’m doing to you.”

Erin glanced back over her shoulder and grinned at Evelyn. “You have a real talent for making me moan,” she teased.

She might have thought she’d embarrass Evelyn with her words, but Evelyn just gave her a little smile and continued to massage her muscles.

“Why don’t you tell me about your meeting on Thursday?” Erin asked after another few moment of blissful kneading.

“Later,” Evelyn told her sternly. “No business talk right now. You just need to focus on relaxing and enjoying yourself.” 

Erin couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, ma’am,” she said again before closing her eyes and taking Evelyn’s advice.


	11. Chapter 11

They lay in the bed, with the lights dimmed and soft jazz music playing from the television. The bedding had been thrown back and they laid, facing each other . . . fully clothed. 

After the massage, Evelyn had suggested they lay down and talk. “We need to make it look like we’ve used the bed . . . so why not?” she’d commented.

Erin didn’t argue. 

It was Evelyn who’d turned on the music. “A little background noise probably isn’t a bad idea,” she’d suggested.

Erin had just grinned at her. “Good to see you’re joining in on the paranoia,” she’d joked . . . but it was only sort of a joke.

When they were laying there, facing each other, Erin couldn’t seem to help herself. She reached out and pushed a strand of Evelyn’s hair back off her face.

Evelyn gently reached up and guided her hand away, saying, “Erin . . . we’ve got business to discuss.” Her tone was serious.

Erin nodded. “Yeah, okay.” Then that crooked little smile appeared. She arched a brow and said, “but later . . . .”

Evelyn had made up her mind when this all started that she would keep it strictly business . . . but she couldn’t seem to stop the little smile from finding its way onto her lips. After a few seconds she gave a non-committal, “We’ll see.” Right at that moment, she really wasn’t certain.

“That would really relax me, I’m sure,” Erin continued as she grinned at Evelyn.

“We’ll see,” repeated Evelyn, but she was struggling to stifle a grin of her own. 

For someone who held such a serious position, it was refreshing to Evelyn to find how goofy and fun Erin could be sometimes.

Erin finally reined herself in, and in a more serious voice asked, “So what happened on Thursday?”

Evelyn was certain the wait had been driving Erin crazy. She’d met with Milan on Thursday evening, but they’d decided it might look suspicious if she rushed off to talk with Erin right afterwards. They’d also agreed they wouldn’t discuss the case on the phone, or out in public, like when they’d met up on Sunday.

So Erin had had to wait.

They’d actually gotten Mike to invite Milan to the gala, on the pretense that he wanted him there to hit up for a donation. Mike had talked to him at the gala, although he made a point of doing it when Evelyn was elsewhere. 

They’d planned to have Mike mention Evelyn – maybe he’d bring up that Milan had asked about her before – but in the end they didn’t have to because Milan had actually made a comment about her being there.

Mike had just run with it, and told Milan that he thought Evelyn might be taking on new clients. He’d made it clear that Milan wasn’t to talk to her that night – she was with him. That was just Mike being his usual territorial self.

But Mike said he’d pass on Milan’s name . . . if that’s what he wanted. Milan, apparently, very much wanted.

Milan was perhaps a bit skeptical . . . given that he’d asked Mike before and nothing had come of it. So he was no doubt surprised – pleasantly surprised – when Evelyn had contacted his office on Monday morning.

It took a bit to connect, but eventually they’d arranged to meet for dinner on Thursday evening. 

“You choose the restaurant,” Evelyn had suggested.

“So am I interviewing you . . . or are you interviewing me?” Milan had asked, probably as a joke.

Evelyn had responded, quite seriously, “A bit of both, I guess.” She always felt total honesty was good for building credibility. She softened it by adding, “Don’t worry, Mr. Kolkov . . . I’ve already done some checking on you. Otherwise, I never would have called.”

Evelyn suspected he was on his best behavior at the restaurant. She did her best to make a good first impression as well. It would be totally anti-climatic if this whole plan blew up because Milan decided he wasn’t as interested in Evelyn as he’d initially thought.

So Evelyn had worn a body hugging black silk dress that was revealing without flaunting her best features. She waited until he’d arrived to make an entrance, and was quite satisfied to see the way his eyes couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

She was her usual charming self and he seemed to respond much like most men did around a beautiful woman.

Evelyn found that Milan was a bit quirky . . . not that most of her clients weren't . . . but it always took her a bit to get an understanding of each individual. While he seemed quite arrogant and sure of himself most of the time, she found he was a little awkward other times. She knew she’d have to figure out what it was that made him uncomfortable, and then decide whether to totally avoid it . . . or for some men, continually push him there.

She was also trying to get a feel for what type of woman he was looking for. Her initial impression was that he would respond best to a strong, sexual woman. It was just a question of how big of a bitch he’d prefer. Some men just liked a confident woman who they could treat as an equal . . . but she had a feeling this one might be into someone with perhaps a more domineering personality. Not that that bothered Evelyn.

As an extension, she knew she’d also have to figure out the sexual side of their ‘relationship’. That, as well, could be tricky . . . especially he was someone who had a craving for something beyond just the straight sexual relationship. 

Evelyn was well aware that if her being domineering extended to the bedroom, it could make it a little challenging, initially, trying to establish the boundaries. She knew it could range anywhere from just taking the lead during sex to bondage to serious discipline or even humiliation. 

Evelyn was open minded . . . but there was a line she wouldn’t cross. It wasn’t an absolute, clearly defined line . . . she’d just see where things went and adjust as needed.

By the end of the meal Evelyn was pretty certain – actually, essentially positive – that Milan was very interested. When he invited her to join him for a nightcap, Evelyn took charge. 

“With most potential clients . . . when I have my initial meeting . . . I like to leave them after the meal. That gives them a chance to consider whether they want to enter into a business relationship with me . . . while things are still fresh in their mind.” She gave him a little smile before adding, “But I think I’ll make an exception with you . . . if you want to buy me a drink . . . at a bar.”

What she said was perhaps not strictly true . . . but most men wanted to think they were special.

Among other things, Mike had told her that Milan liked a good cigar in the evening, so she took him to a cigar bar . . . where she selected the scotch . . . and the cigars . . . for each of them. She could feel his hungry eyes on her as she lit up her cigar and blew a thick stream of smoke into the air.

“Women smoking a cigar are so hot,” he half mumbled – almost like he was in a trance – while he watched her intently. Evelyn gave him an encouraging smile before she brought the cigar back to her lips.

Evelyn didn’t share all of these details with Erin. A lot of them weren’t really relevant for her purposes, so she’d just given her the high level perspective. 

She could feel Erin watching her carefully. When she paused, Erin asked, “So do you think he’s hooked?” Evelyn could feel her intensity.

She just smiled – almost a ‘do you doubt my abilities’ smile – and said, “Before we left the bar he was asking if I was available Friday night.”

Evelyn had just laughed, run a hand lightly over his cheek, almost like he was endearing, and said, “Milan, I have a number of clients and many of them arrange appointments weeks in advance.”

He had looked decidedly pouty, so she’d gripped his chin and raised his face until his eyes met hers. After a couple of seconds of sternly eyeing him – almost a ‘don’t be like that’ look – she let a big smile slip across her face. 

“I usually don’t book on such short notice . . . but for you, maybe I will.” Before he could get too excited she explained. “I happen to know I’m free . . . next Wednesday evening. Do you think you can make that work?”

“So you’re getting together with him on Wednesday?” Erin asked.

Yes,” Evelyn confirmed. 

When she saw Erin’s less than enthused look, she added, “You can’t rush these things. If I dropped everything and said I could see him the next night, maybe he’d be thrilled, initially . . .but at some point . . . especially if he ever became even a little bit suspicious . . . he’d start to wonder . . . .

“Besides, a little anticipation can do wonders. Guys like these are used to getting everything they want when they want it. I think having to wait will make him want it even more . . . .”

Evelyn’s eyes drifted a little and she bit her lip. In a quiet voice she said, “As long as I can make the experience live up to his expectations.” She knew that was something she still had to think about.

The two women were silent for a moment before Erin reached out and brushed that same strand of hair back off Evelyn’s face. 

She smiled at Evelyn and said, “From what I’ve seen, I have no doubts.”

In spite of herself, Evelyn smiled. 

After a second Erin dropped her eyes, and in a remorseful tone said, “I’m sorry . . . really . . . that I’m forcing you to do this.”

Evelyn didn’t respond for a second. Finally she reached over, placed a finger under Erin’s chin and raised her head until their eyes me. Very firmly she said, “This is what I do. It’s what I’ve chosen to do. So don’t you start getting all pouty and worrying about me. I’m fine.”

After a second she grinned and said, “Plus, Milan’s going to be paying me for the pleasure of my company . . . and if you think that’s cheap, then you don’t know me.”

Erin nodded, but the smile that came to her face looked only half-hearted.

Evelyn was going to say more, but then changed her mind. 

Instead she said, “We need to get you something to eat. I’m betting you haven’t had dinner, right?”

Erin looked a little sheepish, and nodded.

“You do a horrible job taking care of yourself,” Evelyn admonished her. “If you keep this up you’ll have a heart attack by the time you’re forty.” She was pretty sure Erin was already forty, but . . . .

A big grin slowly spread across Erin’s face and she rolled her eyes. “God,” she moaned, “You sound like my mother. Do you nag your clients like this?”

Evelyn gave her a stern look and said, “Absolutely. And you’re not even having to pay for it, so consider yourself lucky.”


	12. Chapter 12

They sat across from each other at the table in the corner of the suite and shared a plate of garlic shrimp fettuccine. Evelyn hadn't eaten either, and she wasn’t quite as used to having her supper so late.

She sat in a plush white robe while they shared a second bottle of wine and talked . . . about everything except Milan Kolkov. 

Evelyn had crawled out of the bed as soon as she’d mentioned the idea of food. 

To what she could see was Erin’s utter surprise, she’d unzipped her dress and let it slide onto the floor. She actually found she enjoyed just how intently Erin was watching her. She turned her back, undid her bra and tossed it on the floor as well, before retrieving the plush bathrobe from the closet and slipping it on. 

As she tied the robe she turned back to Erin, who was still on the bed, staring at her, somewhat wide eyed.

Evelyn gave her a little smile and said, “Well, if we’re supposed to be having a good time in here, I think I should at least look the part, don’t you?”

Erin was still grinning at her . . . and not complaining.

“Besides,” Evelyn continued, “It’s not like you haven't seen me out of my dress before.” There was maybe a mischievous little glint in her eye as she spoke.

Without another word she reached up under her robe and slipped her panties off. She dropped them on the floor, just inside the door to the bedroom. 

“When room service comes, there might as well be something for them to see . . . just in case anyone ever asks them. Right?” She still had the same mischievous look.

“Sure,” Erin finally said as she stirred herself from the bed.

She grinned at Evelyn and said, “You’re really good at this, you know.”

Evelyn just smiled. “It’s what I do. I’m always thinking about my characters . . . about the scene . . . how to make things say what I want them to say.”

Erin’s grin grew. “You should be in Hollywood or something,” she said as she walked over to her.

They stood, barely six inches apart, staring at each other . . . neither of them speaking.

Finally Evelyn took Erin’s hand and pulled her out into the other room. “Now let’s call room service,” she said. “So we have a witness to all of this.”

She led Erin over to the table in the corner that had the room service menu, but when she tried to release her hand, Erin didn’t let go. Instead Erin gave a little tug and pulled Evelyn in close to her.

Erin stared down at her . . . not speaking. Neither of them moved. Finally Erin whispered, “I think maybe we should do a little more practicing.”

She leaned in and kissed Evelyn, softly on the lips. Evelyn responded, sharing the kiss for several seconds . . . until she finally pulled away.

She gave Erin a firm look and said, ‘Okay, enough practicing I think. It’s getting late. Let’s order something.”

Her voice was noticeably breathless when she spoke. 

Erin tried to lean in for another kiss, but Evelyn put a hand up and stopped her. She simply said, “Let’s order,” and then, reluctantly, stepped back to create a little distance from Erin.

Erin slowly nodded and said, “Sure.” Her voice sounded somewhat breathless too.

They settled on the fettucine. The two of them relaxed with another glass of wine and talked . . . although the conversation seemed a little more forced than it typically was between them.

By the time room service arrived, they were both ready to eat. Erin stood to answer the door, but Evelyn grabbed her arm to stop her. She grinned as she reached up and ran her hands vigorously though Erin’s hair, giving it a mussed look. Then she undid the first two, and then three buttons on her blouse. 

She stepped back and looked Erin over. She gave a little tug on the side of her blouse to free it from her skirt, so that it hung down, as if she’d dressed in a hurry. She checked Erin out one more time and then smiled. “That’s better,” she said, satisfied that Erin looked like she’d been doing more than just sitting around and talking.

She mussed up her own hair, and retreated into the bedroom while she motioned for Erin to answer the door.

A young man from room service entered with a tray that had the plate of pasta, along with the second bottle of wine that they’d ordered. He set it on the table. As he was having Erin sign for the meal Evelyn made a grand appearance. 

She stepped into the bedroom doorway, still in the robe, and said, “Oh good, the food’s here,” quite casually.

When the young man looked up his jaw fell open. Evelyn was almost posed in the doorway – although looking very natural about it. The way her robe fell open offered a generous view of her cleavage and showed plenty of leg.

The young man struggled to drag his eyes away from her . . . and even glanced back a couple of times as Erin was ushering him out of the room.

When Erin returned from the door she was grinning. “You’re totally shameless, aren’t you?” she laughed.

Evelyn just smiled. “I bet he remembers what he saw in this room . . . if anyone ever asks him.”

“I bet he remembers what he saw in this room when he’s jerking off tonight,” Erin replied. 

She seemed pleased by the slightly shocked look her comment drew from Evelyn

They shared a smile, but were quickly drawn to the corner table by the aroma coming off the pasta. It turned out they both were hungry.

They ate quickly and quietly

Evelyn let Erin finish off the last of the pasta as she topped up their glasses. When they had finished the food, Evelyn grabbed Erin’s hand and pulled her up. “Come on,” she said, “It looks more comfy over there.” She motioned to the large sofa and the chair she’d been curled up in earlier. 

She released Erin’s hand as they approached and sat at the end of the sofa rather than returning to the chair. She half turned and tucked her feet up under herself. 

Evelyn felt pleased when Erin joined her there.

They just sat for a moment, staring at each other . . . neither of them speaking. Evelyn took a sip of her wine, carefully watching the other woman as she did.

Finally she said, “So Wednesday night . . . what do you think?”

Erin didn’t say anything for a few second, but then finally spoke, now back to her serious, business voice. “He sounds eager. I think that’s good. Don’t you?”

Evelyn gave a slow nod. “It’s probably good. The only concerns I have are if he’s built up some crazy expectation and is disappointed . . . .”

As she said that Erin let out a little laugh, rolled her eyes and said, “As if.”

That drew a smile from Evelyn but she didn’t comment. 

She took a second and before continuing. “The other problem that happens – usually at the beginning of one of these relationships – is not getting what the guy really wants. Usually I’m pretty good at figuring that out . . . but this guy . . . he may not be totally straightforward. I’ve got the feeling he has some issues. Typically when that’s the case I go real slow . . . I take my time figuring them out . . . but I’m betting that’s not what you’re hoping for. I assume you want things to move as quickly as they can.”

Erin was listening intently. She took a second before responding. “It would be nice if this moved along . . . but I don’t want you to do anything . . . to rush anything, if it’s going to put you in danger or compromise what we’re trying to do here.” 

She paused and sucked on her lip for a second while she thought. Finally she turned her eyes back to Evelyn and said, “I’m going to trust you.” She gave a smile. “After all, you’re the expert. So move things along as quickly as you think is reasonable . . . but pull back and tell me if you’re getting a bad feeling about anything. Okay?”

Evelyn nodded, but apparently Erin didn’t think she was taking her seriously enough.

“I mean it,” she added, quite emphatically. “If you get any bad vibes, do what you need to do to protect yourself. Promise me.”

Evelyn found herself staring at Erin. She couldn’t help the big smile that spread across her face. “Well, now, Ms. ADA . . . ,” she started slowly, in a light and playful tone. “If I didn’t know that all lawyers were totally heartless . . . I might start to think you really cared.” By the end of her comment her eyes were sparkling and her smile shone brilliantly.

Erin almost looked a little embarrassed by the intensity of Evelyn’s look. 

It took her several seconds, but finally, in a quiet voice, Erin said, “Of course I care.”

The two of them sat quietly for a long time, sipping their wine and just eyeing each other. 

Finally Evelyn made up her mind. She stood, and as Erin watched her, she undid the belt on her robe and let it slide to the floor. She held out her hand to Erin. “We’ve got the room for the whole night,” she said. “So we might as well use it.”

Erin hesitated . . . and then slowly her hand found it’s way into Evelyn’s.


	13. Chapter 13

They lay under a single sheet, Erin with her arms around Evelyn, spooning her. Evelyn enjoyed the feeling of a warm body pressed against her. She wrapped her arms over Erin’s and nuzzled her cheek into them.

She felt Erin stir behind her and then felt as she lightly kissed her on the neck.

Evelyn turned her body so she could see Erin. She smiled.

Erin returned the smile and said, “For someone just putting on a performance, you’re very convincing.”

Evelyn laughed. She reached up and ran her hand lightly over Erin’s cheek. “Oh yes, I’m good,” she answered lightheartedly. “I bet I even had you convinced that those orgasms were real.”

Now Erin laughed. “Yep . . . totally convinced. You had me completely fooled.”

They just stared at each other for a long moment, both of them smiling . . . both of them feeling happy.

Finally Evelyn gently pulled Erin to her. She kissed her, softly, slowly . . . while she ran her hands through her thick, dark hair. She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, she knew . . . especially not with this woman. Not given their work relationship . . . given how it had all come about . . . given their very different roles and responsibilities and even the opposing sides of the law the operated on. 

But Evelyn couldn’t ignore what she felt . . . the passion and the desire that had consumed her when she’d led Erin to the bedroom earlier . . . it still left her a little breathless.

It had started slow . . . small kisses and gentle touches as she’d removed Erin’s clothes. Just once Erin had voiced a concern. She made no effort to try and stop Evelyn, though, as she’d unbuttoned Erin’s blouse Evelyn had let it fall open while she planted small kisses across Erin’s shoulders and down her chest. 

As she’d left a trail of kisses across her tummy, Evelyn’s hands found the zipper at the back of Erin’s skirt. She eased the zipper down, and then did the same with her skirt until it was around Erin’s ankles. Evelyn carefully guided Erin’s feet as she stepped out of the skirt.

While she was doing this, Evelyn had continued to place soft kisses on Erin’s tummy. She was on her knees now, and soon began kissing Erin’s legs, starting at the front of her thigh. Her lips worked their way down over Erin’s sensitive inner thigh where she seemed to pause. 

Erin was not protesting now. Her eyes were closed and her breath was coming rapidly, as her fingers wound their way through Evelyn’s hair.

Evelyn’s kisses worked their way down, almost to Erin’s knee, and then slowly back up until Evelyn’s face was almost nuzzled against Erin’s panties. Evelyn had paused, glanced up at Erin, and then planted a firm kiss directly in the middle of those panties.

Erin had let out a little moan . . . maybe in anticipation . . . but she almost looked frustrated when Evelyn slowly stood up. She’d just stayed there for a couple of seconds, smiling at Erin, before she’d slipped her arms around her and undone her bra. 

Her hands found Erin’s now bared breasts and began to caress them while her mouth found Erin’s neck. Evelyn’s kisses were becoming more aggressive. Her lips worked hard on Erin’s neck . . . she even gave her a little nip with her teeth which brought a surprised little yelp out of Erin.

Evelyn had leaned back and grinned. As they stared at each other, Evelyn hooked her fingers in the waistband of Erin’s panties and slowly lowered them. 

With them both now naked, Evelyn had taken Erin’s hand, led her over to the bed, and fallen down on it, pulling Erin on top of her.

Again Erin seemed surprised, but Evelyn had just laughed and smiled up at her. She’d cupped Erin’s face with her hands and guided her until their lips met.

They shared a long, deep kiss . . . and then their hands had begun to explore.

It had been a memorable evening, filled with soft, gently love-making interspersed with more frantic desire-driven moments.

Evelyn felt more than satisfied, and was confident Erin felt the same. 

For someone who gave serious thought to making sexual experiences like this memorable, even Evelyn found this night quite unforgettable.

As she lay there, feeling Erin’s weight on top of her, she found herself thinking, “I just hope this isn’t a mistake.” The truth was, at that moment, she was confident it really wasn’t.

They lay there, still, for several minutes before Erin stirred again. She raised her head and smiled down at Evelyn.

“What I wanted to say . . . before you rudely distracted me . . . .” Erin grinned at her for a second, before a slightly regretful look appeared on her face. “ . . . I’m sorry . . . but I think I need to get going.”

Evelyn’s smile disappeared. “Why?” was all she said. She tried not to sound disappointed, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

Erin gave her a little smile and brushed a finger over her cheek. She traced it along Evelyn’s lip and Evelyn gave it a little kiss. Erin sighed. “I’ve got to work in the morning, remember. So I’ve got to go home . . . and get some sleep.”

Evelyn gave a overdone sad look and in a pouty voice said, “That doesn’t sound like any fun.”

She immediately smiled up at Erin, just so she knew she was only joking. Erin returned the smile.

“I know, but . . . .” Erin didn’t bother completing the sentence. The reason was self evident.

Evelyn stared up at her for a moment, and then got that mischievous look in her eyes. “You know,” she started slowly. “I’m pretty sure I’m the type of girlfriend who could convince you to stay the night if I really tried.”

Erin seemed a little surprised and laughed. She shook her head and started to say, “Evie, I’ve got to . . . ,” but Evelyn cut her off.

She reached up and brushed Erin’s hair back off her face as she said, “No, really, stay. I’ll get you up nice and early so you can get home and change . . . and I’ll even let you get some sleep.” She brushed Erin’s cheek lightly. “I’d really like it if you stayed, though.” Her words were deeply heartfelt, and she was sure Erin could hear that . . . and see if from the look on Evelyn’s face.

Erin seemed to struggle with it for a few seconds, but then finally surrendered. “Are you happy?” she demanded. “You’ve already got me wrapped around your little finger . . . I’m sure that makes you happy.”

“So you’re staying?” Evelyn gushed. Her enthusiasm surprised even her. She was used to always keeping her cool . . . but she felt suddenly quite ecstatic.

“Yes, I’ll stay.” Erin said it in an annoyed tone of voice, but the grin that quickly appeared on her face made it clear to Evelyn that she wasn’t seriously upset.

“No more Evie for you,” Erin added in that same grumpy tone. That was a nickname she’d taken to calling Evelyn lately. Evelyn wasn’t typically one for that kind of thing . . . but she’d found she didn’t mind it from Erin.

“Evie’s got such a sweet sound to it. For you, I think maybe it’s more appropriate to just call you Evil instead.”

“Oh,” Evelyn exclaimed in mock-outrage and gave Erin a playful swat. She couldn’t help laughing, though.

She pulled Erin close and gave her a tight hug. She kissed her lightly on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you.”

They lay looking at each other. “You’ve got to let me sleep, though,” Erin repeated. 

Evelyn smiled and nodded. “Roll over,” she ordered.

With Erin facing away from her, Evelyn slipped her arms around her, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and whispered, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Erin replied, but even as she was speaking, one of Evelyn’s hands found its way to her breast and began to lightly caress it.

Erin smacked it. “Stop that,” she hissed, trying to sound upset, but Evelyn just laughed.

“Okay, just kidding. Now go to sleep,” Evelyn finally said She gave Erin a light kiss on the shoulder, and then closed her eyes. She was feeling almost overwhelmed with happiness. It was a foreign feeling for her.


	14. Chapter 14

Evelyn stepped off the elevator and stood at the door to Milan’s penthouse condo. It was mid-town Manhattan – a prestigious address – with what she was sure had a spectacular view of the city and the east river.

The door opened almost instantly and Milan was there, dressed quite casually in a pair of tight fitting white pants and a silky blue shirt that was opened a button or two too many.

“He could use some help dressing himself,” Evelyn thought. It wasn’t a snarky, belittling thought. It was a legitimate area that she knew she could help him with. 

She really tried to do her best to help out her clients in any way she thought would be useful. That was part of the reason she was in demand. 

There were plenty of women who looked good on someone’s arm or who were good in bed. Evelyn was that, but she tried to bring even more to the ‘relationship’. Most of her clients were smart enough to understand that and appreciate it.

She just stood there, smiling, letting him look her over. She’d worn a vivid, sapphire blue dress that brought out her blue eyes. It hugged her curves and ended six inches above her knees, showing off her lines and her shapely legs. She’d done a lot of research on Milan and notices he often wore blue. It made her wonder if it was his favorite color.

She’d added a pair of knee high black leather boots. Her experience was that most men loved women in boots . . . and those who liked a strong woman almost always preferred them.

She’d pulled her hair back into a little bun at the nape of her neck – sleek and clean, but not too severe – and had chosen bold colors for her make-up – blue shadow for her eyes, a hint of pink on her cheekbones and a brighter pink for her lips. 

She could see from the look in Milan’s eyes that she wasn’t disappointing him.

“Well, are you going to invite me in?” she asked, a little sharply. Evelyn wanted to project that strong, in-control image.

“Uh, yeah, of course . . . come in,” Milan stammered as he stepped back and welcomed her to his home.

That earned him a smile which he also seemed to appreciate.

As she passed him, Evelyn slipped her arm in his and took control. “Well, show me around,” she said. “I want to see everything.” 

That also seemed to please him. 

He gave her the full tour. He was obviously quite proud of his home and enjoyed showing it off. The penthouse took up the entire top floor of the building and as she had suspected, it had spectacular views. 

It was quite open and airy, with a huge living room that looked out over the east river, a modern kitchen – where they found a rather intense African American woman preparing their meal – a large office which looked well used, a separate library which did not, and several bedrooms. 

All of the furnishings looked very modern – lots of stainless steel, glass and white leather. It certainly wasn’t Evelyn’s style, but she had to admit the place was actually very nicely done. She was certain he’d had professional advice in furnishing it . . . although she couldn’t think of any of her clients who’d take the time to do it for themselves.

She seated herself on the large leather sofa, crossed her legs in an exaggerated fashion to ensure it drew his attention – not that she had to try very hard – and then gave him a smile.

“You have a beautiful place, Milan,” she gushed. She could see how her praise pleased him. She let her eyes run slowly around the room, clearly admiring it, and then turned back to him. The smile returned. “Yes, very nice.”

She waited a second or two, but when Milan didn’t speak – or join her – she took charge again. “Well, aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she did. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evelyn took a long draw on the cigar – a very nice Cuban. She held it for a moment, letting the rich flavors swirl around in her mouth, and then blew a long stream of smoke out into the night sky. 

She felt a light breeze tickle its way across her skin, felt how it stiffened her bare nipples and pricked up goosebumps on her arm. It felt refreshing and invigorating. 

She stared at the lights of the city spread out before her . . . like so many stars in the sky. It was an amazing view.

Her gaze remained fixed for another moment . . . and then reluctantly she brought herself back to the present . . . because she knew she wasn’t the only one enjoying the view.

She turned slightly, so her profile – her naked profile – was silhouetted against the lights of the city. She glanced at Milan. He stood back, leaning against the wall of the building, intently watching her. 

She brought the cigar to her lips and drew again, watched as the tip sparked red . . . and then slowly blew the smoke up into the air. She was sure Milan enjoyed watching that . . . sure that like so many men, a thick cigar in a woman’s mouth was a powerful image that provoked wonderous thoughts.

She took one last glance out at that magnificent view, and then turned and walked – not the least bit self-conscious – back across the patio towards Milan.

She paused in front of him, all but inviting him to take in the beauty of her naked body. Earlier he’d experienced the pleasure of it – for the first time – and certainly didn’t seem in any way disappointed.

Of course she’d teased and taunted him beforehand, while he’d given his tour, while they shared drinks, and then as they’d enjoying the gourmet meal that his private chef had prepared for them. Through all of that she’d smiled and openly flaunted her body. 

She knew only too well how to build his anticipation. 

When she’d finally taken his hand and led him to the bedroom, she remained very much in control. He’d struggled with that once or twice, but Evelyn reined him back in. And in the end, he certainly wasn’t complaining.

Afterwards, it was almost embarrassing how he gushed about it. There was no doubt that Evelyn had read him correctly, and had played him just right.

She’d suggested the cigars on the patio . . . and told him she’d join him after a moment in the ‘powder room’. His shock – and delight – was readily apparent when she’d strolled out, still naked, and let him light her cigar for her.

She smiled to herself. She was quite certain Milan would not be forgetting this first evening with her any time soon.

“Why don’t I get us a drink?” she offered. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Maybe we can sit out here . . . and enjoy the view.”

He just nodded . . . never taking his eyes off of her. 

Evelyn had to smile. He was like a kid in a candy store . . . his eyes everywhere like he couldn’t get enough. And she was happily treating him to all he could possibly hope for . . . at least for now.

“Here, hold this,” she said as she passed him her cigar. She was subtle, but rather than asking him, she made a point of just tell him. 

She still felt confident that was the best approach with him. Everything this evening told her she was right.

She was even thinking that as time went on, she might want to be even more forceful. That was the sense she had so far, anyways, but she was always cautious at the start . . . always trying to establish what was just right without going too far.

As she walked though the large sliding door into the penthouse she paused and turned back to him. “Scotch . . . on the rocks.” It came as a statement rather than a question.

Evelyn really didn’t need to ask. She’d done her research. 

It was just another opportunity for her to pose and flaunt her body for him . . . without him ever really realizing she was doing it.

When he nodded, she graced him with a smile, and then turned and walked off, letting her bottom sway seductively as she went.

A minute later she returned with two drinks.

Milan had a cigar in either hand, so she just opened her mouth and motioned for him. He slid the cigar between her lips – Evelyn made a point of making a perfect circle with her lips and then slowly wrapping them around the cigar. More imagery for him . . . and he seemed to be lapping it up.

After she handed him his drink, she hooked her arm through his and led him to a cluster of furniture near the end of the patio. She paused in front of a large chair and Milan, taking the hint, sat.

Evelyn gracefully eased her way down, right onto his lap, and slipped an arm around him. She took a sip of her drink and followed it up with another draw on the cigar. She let her eyes drift out into the lights of the city . . . seemingly oblivious of the fact her bare breast was all but right in Milan’s face.

It took him longer than she had expected, but quite suddenly he leaned forward and ran his tongue over her nipple. 

“Oh!” Evelyn feigned surprise as she turned her eyes back to Milan.

She arched a brow and in a disbelieving voice said, “You can’t be horny again . . . already?”

It had actually been well over an hour – plenty of time for a man to recover – but she always did her best to make each one feel like he was special. Anything to do with sexual prowess was something all men wanted to feel special about.

From the grin on Milan’s face, it was clear he appreciated the comment. She knew most men like him – with the egos they had – would never truly think to question whether what she said was true or not. And she was good enough that they’d never read it from her.

She set her drink down and leaned forward, wrapped her hands around his head and guided him to her breasts. When he hungrily assaulted it she eased his head back and tilted it up so he was looking at her.

“Slowly,” was all she said but in a tone that made it clear it was more than a request.

She looked into those dark eyes. She tried to sense if there was any signs of annoyance or resentment . . . but all she saw was an eagerness to please . . . which was what she’d hoped for.

She gave him an encouraging smile and guided him back to her breast. He wrapped his lips around her nipple and began to tease it with his tongue.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she purred and then after a minute guided him to her other breast. 

With all his money and power, Evelyn was certain Milan had been with a lot of women . . . but he still felt inexperienced. She was sure none of them would have ever thought to instruct him. It was dangerous territory with a man – especially a powerful man – but she was confident in her abilities.

She closed her eyes, let her head fall back, and continued to sigh softly as Milan attended to her nipples.

After a couple of minutes, she reached down and rested her hand in his lap. He was indeed aroused again. She smiled at him and began to lightly tease him. It was time for round two.


End file.
